


Paper and Sand

by FifteenBadgers



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23724016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FifteenBadgers/pseuds/FifteenBadgers
Summary: Eden's death had been a lie. There was no peace for Taylor after her victory. Instead only vague memories of a previous life and the mindless existence of being the newest, fourth Endbringer, created by the [Thinker] after she reset the timeline. Inspired by the old Hypnos threads on Spacebattles.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	1. Mojave

Khepri is not like the other Endbringers.

Those had been the words that stuck the most in Writ’s mind from Legend’s brief speech before the sandstorm descended upon Las Vegas. She supposed that she hadn’t taken them too seriously at first.

This wasn’t her first Endbringer fight by any means, and Writ doubted that Khepri was somehow worse than the hollow screams of the Simurgh. In hindsight that had been an arrogant belief, one that now haunted her steps as she tried to make her way through the sand-clouded streets.

The wind blew the fine grains hard enough to start stripping the skin away from the muscles beneath, and Writ knew that if it weren’t for her power she would’ve been flung away long ago. Even so it was difficult to get around, all sound overshadowed by the howling storm. It was dark too, like late twilight, and she could barely see more than a few meters in front of her.

She is not the classical monster that her older siblings are. She is the slasher horror, hiding in the shadows and waiting to strike.

Breathing was difficult through the thick masks that had been issued to them, but she knew that the sand would’ve drowned her had she not worn it. More pressing was the worry she had for her teammates. All of them, in some way, were vulnerable to the conditions Khepri brought with her, although it would be a lie to imply that there were many who were not.

Her scarabs would swarm out from the sand, a writhing mass of chitin and jaws that surrounded the victim. Writ had seen one man, a local villain, scoured down to the bone in seconds before the swarm disappeared back into the darkness. She was especially worried about Colin, knowing that Khepri liked to target Tinkers, and the brave if unconventional leader of her division would not let that stop him from trying to face Khepri head on.

She will target the strongest capes. Those with the most potential. The ones who stand above the rest.

Writ came to a crossing and paused, unsure and unfamiliar with the city. The roads had been wrecked, half melted in places and simply gone in others. She caught sight of a long, thick gouge through the wall of the closest building. A great wash of wet blood accompanied it, as well as the bisected remains of a cape.

A wave of relief passed through her when she didn’t recognise the poor soul, followed by one of guilt for the thought. The Endbringer carried a Khopesh, as long as Writ stood tall, and used it with preternatural speed. The Thinkers were unsure if it was part of her or not, but so far no one had been able to separate them. The scene brought her fear back into the fore, the last time she had seen her team running through her mind. Khepri sometimes gave her targets a warning, to unnerve them, by scraping the tip of her sword along the ground.

The sound had echoed strangely, and none of them had been able to pinpoint where she was. The next moment she was amongst them, weapon swinging. Velocity had dodged, barely, and the follow up slash impacted against Dauntless’ shield with a great thrum of thunder. Writ had been thrown back and her teammate was only saved by Alexandria sweeping down, doubtlessly alerted by the explosive noise, and catching Khepri with a low-slung punch to the stomach.

The Endbringer had shifted in time for it to be only a glancing blow but was distracted enough that Legend could bring his lasers to bear. Alexandria followed up with another punch, one strong enough to send a ripple out in the sand and almost deafen Writ, but Khepri had seemed to have had enough by that point and called her sand to her. What had once been a thick veil became a blinding torrent, and by the time it lifted Writ was alone with no one in sight.

Her most dangerous attribute is not her most obvious one. It is not the storm, nor the swarm. It is not even the sword. It is the fact she is a Stranger. If she chooses not to make a sound, you will not hear her. If she chooses to hide behind her sand, you will not see her. You will never know she is coming.

Writ was reminded of that only when the blunt end of the Khopesh was hooked round her torso and used to smash her into an abandoned car. Her paper armour saved her, and came to life, great sheafs of it blurring out in a futile attempt to shred the Endbringer.

Tiny pieces too, so that she could sense and see via the outline of everything they came to rest against. She turned, neck hurting in an alarming way, in time to see the casual swipe that tore through her attack. Sand followed up, snatching the paper around them and dragging it far away, leaving Writ almost defenceless.

Khepri stood tall, dwarfing any normal human, around nine feet in all. She was long limbed, with golden scale-armour covering much of her body. There were thickly armoured parts around the chest and shoulders, as well as along the thighs, chunky and squared pieces that looked more decorative than functional. It spread out into an armoured skirt too, a long one in the ancient style that went to her knees, and her bare legs and feet under it was what could’ve passed for normal and slightly tanned human skin.

Khepri’s hair was black and thick with a luscious sheen, similar to Writ’s own, that fell to the small of her back. What stood out most those was the smooth white mask that covered her face, with the only marking on it a single tear under the left eye in a lapis blue. Writ could see human-looking eyes through the mark’s holes that were a distinctive green colouring. The Endbringer had a bearing of pride about her, head held high and confidant. The returning conqueror, resplendent and strong.

Khepri stood still for only a moment, as if to let Writ appreciate her glory, before a blink-quick lunge of the khopesh split the car that Writ had been lying on in half. She had only managed to dodge by using all of her remaining paper to push herself away. Left in nothing but her under suit, a tight synthetic weave for moments like this, she knew that there was little else she could do to defend herself.

Sometimes she is merciful and leaves those she has defeated alive. With others she will be cruel and kill slowly, piece by piece. You might be wondering why it is we fight her. It is because if we do not – if we ignore her games, her challenges - she will bury the city in sand and her scarabs will devour every remaining person within twenty miles. Millions dead, if we do nothing. So we fight.

Writ lay prone on the floor, waiting for that final swing. She matched gazes with the Endbringer, unwilling to show fear or back down, and Khepri…faltered. There was no other word for it, for the hesitation was clear as day. The khopesh was lifted, brought under her chin to tilt Writ’s head up and the sand above cleared long enough for the desert sun to shine down upon her bare face.

The moment stretched out even as both of them remained still, Writ frozen in place and unsure. Eventually, even reluctantly looking, Khepri lowered her weapon and took a step back. She shook her head as though she was trying to wake up, a quick and jerky movement. The Endbringer spared Writ one more glance before turning and loping off into the sandstorm.

The opening above remained, however, and Annette Hebert lay there for a long while in the sun, confused and shaken.

They told her afterwards that it was a good day, that Khepri was driven off after barely an hour. That cape casualties were light, and Dauntless’ arm was only shattered and not lost, easy enough for Panacea to fix when they got home. It did not escape her notice that Khepri had vanished right after their confrontation, a twisting thought that sank low in her gut and kept her awake that night as she lay in her room in the Rig, thinking of green eyes, black hair, and a too-empty bedroom.


	2. Whispers

K:[Sibling]  
“Sister?”  
S:[Acknowledgement]  
“Yes?”  
K:[Creator]  
“I think I saw my mother today.”  
S:[Thinker]  
“Eden?”  
K:[Negation]  
“No. I know she’s gone."  
K:[Mother]  
"My mother…before.”  
S:[Memories]  
“Ah. You are starting to recall.”  
K:[Affirmation]  
“Yeah.”  
S:[Path]  
“What do you want to do?”  
K:[Hesitation]

K:[Remember]  
“I…I want to remember.”

Saint shifted uneasily as another faint whisper of sound passed through the Dragonslayer’s base. It had started earlier in the night, only occasionally at first but with increasing frequency as the sun fell fully below the sky. The others had been alarmed at first, checking the security feeds and defences but eventually concluded that Saint was just being paranoid. Even Mags had given up and left for bed, sighing fondly at him, however Geoff couldn’t bring himself to sleep while he was so on edge and instead settled for watching the stream of Dragon’s consciousness roll by on his monitor.

It was soothing, in a way, the lines of code and inner thoughts keeping him settled. Mostly. He had almost nodded off when the sound happened again, louder this time, enough so that he could vaguely guess where it was coming from. He rose, hooking the strap of his rifle around his shoulders and began a slow, measured walk in the right direction. Another whisper, this time seeming more like a hissing. He brought the gun up and sighted as he spun round the corner, but the hallway was empty.

Despite that his unease grew, feeling like there was something very wrong with what he was seeing. Saint continued forward, boots making a faint clomping sound on the metal, disturbing the thin layer of dust on the floor. Another corner, another sharp movement, but still he saw nothing.

Then, quick as lightning, a small flicker in the corner of his eye. It had looked like the tail of a snake disappearing into a dark room on the right. He frowned, knowing the lights should have been on. A quick tap on the communication device all the Dragonslayers carried and the comms line opened up. He tapped out a simple rhythm, hoping that at least one of the others was awake enough to hear and begin prepping the rest of his team. Saint almost flinched when the light came back on suddenly, although he managed to make no noise, and after a quick breath he slid next to the door, waiting for whoever was inside to come out. A minute passed like that, then two, before his nerve broke. He turned, weapon raised and sighted into the almost empty room.

There was a layer of dark brown sand a good two foot thick inside, evenly spread and, somehow, not falling out into the corridor. A glance up revealed a smooth borehole in the ceiling. Saint had no time to process this before the sand lunged towards him, covering his mouth and entombing his body. He was yanked around, and if he were free to move in any way he would’ve frozen, because he came face to mask with the youngest Endbringer. Khepri half crouched in the hallway, too tall to properly fit. She was also very close to him, enough that were he not mindless with terror he would also be incredibly uncomfortable.

She reached out to him, turning his head from side to side, green eyes weighing him. Her eyes were slit, like a cats, he noted absently, hysteria having looped back around to serenity. He was unsure of what she was looking for, but as the sand poured into his lungs and eyes he knew that she had not found it. The power to the lights was cut, and each member of the Dragonslayers was stalked and hunted down in the darkness, one by one.

Khepri stood before the main console watching Dragon. A measured turn of her head brought her attention to the laptop nearby, and streams of thin sand crawled into place to operate it. The computer was already logged in, and so it took little time to bring up google and begin her searches. Topics flicked by as fast as the pages would load. Endbringer attacks, S-Class threats, Scion, Eidolon, Alexandria. Brockton Bay, their protectorate team. Writ. She paused for a while then. The Undersiders. Coil. The Undersiders. Another pause. Danny Hebert.

Mentioned in a newspaper, a lawyer, his daughter and her friend were attacked. The friend died. Taylor Hebert. The same. Emma Barnes.

A final pause, far longer than the rest.

Annette Hebert.

The sand stilled.

“Mom?”


	3. Echoes

Nightowl crouched low to the ground, the shadowy plates that made up her armour rippling in unease. Her long tail, a thin and serrated whip, twitched back and forth as she inched around the corner to scan the open plaza with wide, almost-human eyes. It seemed empty at first but it didn’t take her long to spot the tiny shreds of paper scattered on the floor.  
  
They were a trap, she knew, but as long as she didn’t disturb any then Writ wouldn’t know she had passed by. Nightowl took a step forward as slowly as possible, trying not to move the air too much, and when nothing happened she continued forward a bit more boldness. It did not take her long to cross the open space and she huffed out a breath of relief only to jump in surprise when she caught a flash of white in the corner of her eye.  
  
She spun, baring her claws and teeth, but saw nothing. Then another, this time larger, and with a sinking feeling Nightowl knew that it was too late for her to escape.  
  
More and more paper surrounded her, some plain rectangles and others in the shape of beasts and people, different enough to draw and confuse the eye. Enough so that when Writ herself struck out from the white tornado Nightowl was unprepared. A wide sword crashed into her leg, shattering the plates of shadow and impacting on her skin hard enough to leave a bruise. She tried to strike back, tail spearing towards the armored figure, but Writ spun away and disappeared into the storm.  
  
Nightowl was more prepared next time, catching the sword with her claws and slicing clean through the paper, but Writ relinquished the weapon and disintegrated it, covering Nightowl’s line of sight enough that when she pulled free Writ was already behind her, a spear poised to plunge through the small hole left in the almost recovered plate covering her thigh. Writ had underestimated Nighowl’s speed, and before the hero could react she rolled onto her back, bearing her long back claws and wrapping her tail around Writ’s waist, pulling her along. Nightowl followed up with the motion, coming to a stop crouched above Writ, her fanged mouth around the armoured neck.  
  
She had a brief flare of satisfaction before she felt and heard a sharp crack and then the point of a spear press into her now exposed and very human neck. The figure below her crumpled in on itself, and Emma sighed.  
  
“I got too caught up in the moment.” She said, letting her armoured plates slide back into nothingness and flopping to the ground.  
“And?” Writ asked, poking her in the side with her spear.  
  
“And I focused on the enemy I could see, assuming I had them beaten.” Emma rolled to the side to look up into the cold visage of her mentor’s armour.  
  
“Good.” Annette said, the paper sliding away to reveal her wide, familiar smile. “You’re doing well Ems.” She reached down and hoisted Emma up, the girl slumping against her side.  
  
“It doesn’t feel like it.” She complained into Annette’s shoulder. “We’ve had powers the same amount of time and you’re just so far ahead of me.”  
  
“I am very good at what I do.” She beamed down, the light in her eyes softening the words as she cupped Emma’s cheek. “But do remember, I purposely go hard on you in these training simulations. You’re far ahead of the other wards of similar experience, and its best to be over prepared anyway.”  
  
“Yeah.” Emma agreed, following her mentor towards the exit. “There’s no kill like overkill.”  
Annette responded with an arched eyebrow.  
  
“Have you been spending time around Chris again?”  
  
“No!” A flush of pink spread across her cheeks, knowing exactly what the older woman was implying.  
  
“He’s just nice to be around.”  
  
“Mhmm.”  
  
“Mom!” The word slipped out, and Emma froze in horror, darting her eyes to Annette. There was a brief look of pain on her face before it eased.  
  
“I-. Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”  
  
“It’s okay, Ems. It actually means a lot to me.” She had turned to face the teenager now with a small smile. “I think Taylor would’ve been happy to call you sister.”  
  
Emma let out a slightly-choked breath.  
  
“Yeah.” She agreed, thinking of blinding smiles and a thick main of black hair. “Besides, its not like my real mom has any right to the name.”  
  
“Emma!” Annette’s voiced was raised but lacked the sharp tones of true anger, and Emma knew she agreed somewhat. “Your parents are just struggling with raising a young, headstrong parahuman. You should give them more of a chance.”  
  
“I did! And Alan just hides in his work like a coward while Zoe goes on pretending like I’m still a normal child. They’re just so-”  
  
“Emma.” She warned again, lips pursed, and the teenager knew she had gone too far this time. “They still love you. They just don’t want to lose you.”  
  
Her voice tapered off, and Emma knew that Annette was thinking of the child she no longer had.  
  
“Okay okay.” She sighed, nudging her godmother out of her fugue. “But I still prefer you.”  
  
She couldn’t see it but knew that Annette was rolling her eyes as she led her off to the wards rooms.  
  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Dragon hummed in contentment as she watched Colin review the recordings of the wards training sessions with their mentors. It was relieving to see her friend willing to turn his attention away from his tinkering and to something that didn’t stress him out so much, even if it still counted as work.  
  
“Aegis is still too willing to place himself in harms way.” Colin murmured. “He relies too much on his healing.”  
  
“What do you want him to do?” She asked, if only to prompt his thoughts. Her friend narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly.  
  
“Perhaps simulation that is restarted every time he takes damage I consider to be detrimental. If nothing else it would teach him patience.”  
  
“Not a bad idea.” Dragon agreed, chuckling slightly at the irony of Colin helping someone with their patience. “Is that all of them?”  
  
“Aside from Vista, who is on a field trip right now.” There was a satisfied smile on his face as he signed off on the report, and Dragon again found herself thankful for Writ joining the Brockton Bay team.  
  
She had brought her goddaughter with her, and it only took a few months before she caught wind of the poor job Colin was doing handling his wards. Writ had torn him up and down, warning him that he was risking losing one of them and that if he didn’t sort his act out he would regret it. Colin had been furious that such a new member of his team had talked to him like that, and even more so when Dragon agreed with Writ.  
  
But, eventually, the pair of them had brought him round, especially after Dragon explained to Colin about what had happened to Writ’s young daughter. The final capstone had been how she had pointed out that leaving a legacy of superb Wards and newly graduated Protectorate members would look very good to the public and his bosses.  
  
Even though he was doing it for somewhat selfish reasons he took to it with the same professionalism he did everything, so Writ and Dragon were mollified.  
  
The alert of an incoming call distracted her from her thoughts. She turned her attention to it fully when she realised that it was not a call she could deny, and was coming from a remote island in Canada.  
  
“Hold on Colin. Something’s come up.” He glanced up at her avatar, noting the concerned expression, and waiting to see if she needed him to help.  
  
The connection alert timed out and was replaced by a video feed, showing a dark room. It looked like a military base, with metal walls, blast doors, and high ceilings. She could see computers in the periphery, turns on, although no one was operating them. Both doors to the room were open to shadowed hallways and Dragon could see a faint trail of blood leading into the room by the glow of a monitor. The base’s alarm was going off noiselessly, red lights flashing on and off in a steady beat.  
  
That was all very minor in comparison to the Endbringer standing in the middle of the room, her mask alternating between bone-white and a dark red as the lights turned on and off. She carried a body in her right hand, grasped behind the neck, and lifted it up so that Dragon could see Khepri’s victim, Khopesh noticeably absent. Saint’s eyeless, agonized face stared back.  
  
“Colin.” She whispered, bringing the feed up on his screen. The man stilled, eyes widening at the sight. The three of them didn’t move for a second, the moment stretching out painfully far, broken when Khepri dropped the corpse to the floor and stepped forward.  
  
A thousand voices in a thousand languages spoke all at once, in whispers and shouts and everything in between and for a moment even Dragon was overwhelmed.  
  
“What did she do?” Armsmaster asked, wincing slightly. “It sounded like static.”  
  
“Static?” Dragon asked absently, still completely focused on the Endbringer. Khepri stood, as though waiting for a response, an expectant tilt to her head. “I think she was speaking.”  
  
Armsmaster shook his head and stood, coming out of the shock he had been caught by.  
  
“We need to call this in, now, and sound the alarms.”  
  
“Wait!” Dragon half shouted. “I think I understood her.”  
  
“Dragon.” He warned, already picking up his phone.  
  
“Please Colin. They’ve never tried to communicate before.”  
  
Armsmaster gritted his teeth but stopped dialing.  
  
“I’m calling Piggot as soon as this goes wrong. And translate for me.”  
  
Dragon nodded, although he couldn’t see it.  
  
“Each word had a similar meaning. Freedom.”  
  
Another chorus of voices spoke out, and the Endbringer gestured towards the body on the floor.  
  
“And this time?” Colin asked.  
  
“’A blood debt paid’…roughly.”  
  
“What was the debt for?” Dragon asked, speaking directly to the creature. There were three separate bursts this time, with enough of a gap for her to parse them out.  
  
“ _Savior_. _Hero_. _Paragon_.” She repeated. “What does she mean?”  
  
Colin didn’t have a chance to respond, as Khepri raised her hand slowly to point directly into the camera.  
  
“Me?” Dragon asked, shock running through her voice. A nod, then the Endbringer lowered her hand. She spoke again.  
  
“ _Construct_. _Control_. _Poison_.” Colin seemed confused at this, but Dragon was able to understand all the languages Khepri was using. She knew Dragon was an AI, and Saint had had a way to control her, or to kill her.  
  
“Why?” She whispered on private channel. “Why help me?” Khepri paused, looking the closest to hesitant that Dragon had ever seen an Endbringer.  
__  
  
Code. Friend. Another pause. _Polite._


	4. Slumber

Piggot's reaction was less than stellar. There had been shouting, threats of violence, promises of demotion, more shouting, and Dragon had only managed to halt her tirade by pointing out that Piggot had exactly no authority over her whatsoever.  
  
Colin had been suspiciously quiet for the entire time, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had somehow managed to soundproof his armour. Eventually she had calmed, her face flushed an unhealthy red as she called up the Chief-Director.  
  
Despite the late hour and urgency of the request Rebecca Costa-Brown seemed as unflappable as ever, her first reaction to the news that Dragon had been talking to an Endbringer not half-an-hour ago a mere slow blink.  
  
“How sure are you of this communication?” Was her first question, one Dragon had been expecting.  
  
“Enough to bring this straight to you.” She replied. “I would know if it were fake.”  
  
“The repercussions from imitating an Endbringer for their own gain would be enough to put he majority of villains off of such an action.” Colin added. The Chief-Director acquiesced the point with a nod.  
  
“Show me.”  
  
Watching it back afterwards let Dragon realise how awful the sound of Khepri’s speech actually was. Her processors were quick enough to translate it on the go, and she lacked the biological feedback systems that would’ve caused pain.  
Piggot winced at it, as did Colin despite him hearing it before, although Dragon did note that the Chief-Director seemed indifferent.  
  
“Christ. Not even a day after Vegas.” She said after a moment, letting a rare moment of weariness show through in her tone.  
  
“At least she made it clear that she is returning to whatever form of rest it is that the Endbringers take.” Colin offered into the silence, and Dragon couldn’t help but smile fondly at him.  
  
“Quite. I note that neither of you took the opportunity to ask any useful questions.”  
  
“We were…overcome by shock.” Dragon offered, making her avatar blush. “We will be more prepared next time.”  
  
“Next time?” The director asked, letting a bit of scepticism out.  
  
“It seems likely that she will contact us again at some point, considering the relative mundanity of her reasons.” Colin said, coming to Dragon’s defence.  
  
“It seemed like she was thanking me. Like she owed me something.” She shrugged. “But I know of nothing I might’ve done for her, let alone something that would be breaking what is now clearly years of silence for.”  
  
“Think some more on it.” Costa-Brown said. “This is the most information we have ever had on the creatures, and I refuse to not eke out every last advantage we can from it. I’ll have Watchdog look over the recording to see what they can pick up. We will reconvene with some of the other directors as soon as they have something for us.”  
  
The three of them nodeed, Piggot saluting, but the director didn’t immediately end the call.  
  
“It should be needless of me to say, but I will regardless. Not a word of this is to leave this room. I will not make threats simply because the consequences should be clear enough.” She took a moment to meet the gaze of each of them. “Dismissed.”  
  
Piggot let out a sigh, and relaxed slightly.  
  
“I want you to go over Dragon’s entire history, starting with any and all contact with the Endbringers you have had. Then…” Here she paused, considering. “There is a theory, among the PRT directors and Watchdog thinkers, that we don’t normally share with the public at large, or even the parahumans in the Protectorate. It has proven bad for morale, and is ultimately useless information when the attacks are happening. I think, however, that both of you are mature enough to process it.”  
  
Colin shifted, and Dragon had known him long enough to see the anticipation in his stance.  
  
“Aside from the Simurgh, who is and has always been a mystery, the other three Endbringers seem to have a pattern. Behemoth kills the weakest parahumans. Leviathan creates more in the devastation after he has hit a city, and Khepri refines them. It is no coincidence that there are exponentially more second triggers during her attacks than there is in the normal life of a parahuman.”  
  
Dragon nodded at this, having had to delete a few similar discussions from PHO for the PRT. While it wasn’t the most difficult conclusion to come to, it was still taboo talking about Endbringers, so it wasn’t something she had to do often.  
  
“Khepri, especially, seems to make a game of it and we can only guess as to the purpose. She has always been different from the others.”  
  
“Attacking almost three times as often. Always in the summer of whichever hemisphere. Civilian casualties are miniscule compared to her siblings, and even parahuman deaths are light.” Colin said, thinking out loud.  
  
“And eerily human.” Dragon added. “Even more than the Simurgh.”  
  
Piggot slumped backwards into her chair.  
  
“I had never liked the implications of the Endbringers have such a degree of planning.” A hand slicked her hair back, rubbing at crease lines. “The idea that they are sapient, that they can talk…”  
  
A tired quietness descended on them for a moment.  
  
“You’ll be off patrols until after the meeting, Armsmaster. This is your top priority. Now get some rest.”  
  
He nodded and stood, already lost in his thoughts. Dragon offered Piggot a goodbye before shutting the call down and switching to the camera in Colin’s workshop.  
  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
Writ rode on the back of a paper gryphon above Brockton Bay, revelling in the view and freedom of flying, especially after experiencing Khepri’s sandstorm only a day prior.  
  
Despite the wind buffeting her ears and the cold that was starting to creep into her limbs it was one of the few times she could truly enjoy her powers.  
  
Normally she was either fighting, admittedly something she had taken to well, or it was quiet enough that seeing her white armour only served to remind Writ of her trigger.  
She knew that Emma suffered a similar problem when she shifted into her changer form. That in the instant after the change was complete she saw knives, instead of claws, and the dark of an alley instead of black armour.  
They managed together, however, often spending time watching films or talking during the nights they couldn’t sleep. Writ knew it wasn’t the healthiest response, that while she wasn’t replacing Taylor with Emma she had basically adopted the girl, especially after she had divorced Danny.  
  
The same was true in reverse, Emma having given up on her parents ever understanding and struggling to connect with her sister while she was away for college. No, neither of them were replacing anything, and they both knew that, instead more relying heavily on the last strong familial relationship they had.  
  
They had both made friends in the Wards and Protectorate, of course, but they were new. Post-trigger, and there wasn’t the same inherent…loss. The other parahumans all had their own demons anyway, like anyone with powers.  
  
Vista got too stressed whenever any of the adult heroes argued. Dennis avoided all mentions of hospitals and Panacea, hiding in jokes instead. Each had their own foible, although the Protectorate heroes had had long enough to practice hiding them.  
  
Writ shook herself, drawing herself back to the present, thankful that checking her caches had become automatic after nearly a year, and turned her attention to the west.  
  
The sun was fading, only a slight glow on the horizon outlining the hills above the city, while below her spread the uncoordinated wash of Brockton’s Bays lights.  
  
One of the reasons she loved New England so much was the chaos of the cities, founded before the regimented grid that the rest of America used had come into use. Brockton Bay reminded her of Europe, of old winding streets and quiet rainy nights.  
  
Her route didn’t take long to finish, the range on her power being as far as it was, and she tilted her construct back towards the Rig. Her other creations, a mix of birds, insects and pixies, swooped and dove around her.  
  
They were not sentient, at all, but it took no effort at all to animate them that way and Writ honestly preferred it over the frozen stillness they would have otherwise. It was merely a bonus when they managed to distract anyone she was fighting.  
  
She could’ve gone home but the thought of her empty, single bedroom apartment didn’t appeal at the moment. Writ didn’t think on the old house, sold off as it was after Danny had left for…where he went off to. She had wiped her hands of him long ago.  
  
“Writ coming in for landing, tower 3.” She said into her comm unit. “Whiskey-Uniform-Eight-Umbrella.”  
  
“Acknowledged Writ. You are cleared for landing, tower 3.”  
  
“Thanks Charlie.”  
  
“Anytime, ma’am.” He replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice.  
  
“Such a polite young man.” Writ murmured, dipping her voice into a slight tease.  
  
“Just doing my duty, ma’am.”  
  
She was pleased that he had only hesitated for a moment this time, and that she could barely hear his nervousness. He knew her identity too, so it was fun to tease him in and out of costume. It was with a better mood that she landed, the gryphon losing cohesion and smoothly transitioning back onto her armour alongside the smaller constructs.  
  
The paper was only slightly unwieldy when she had it all in place, giving her a bulky, heavy look, especially with her weapon and shield on her back. There would’ve been no way she could’ve carried the weight of it all if she were unpowered.  
  
There was no sound as the doors opened, smooth as they were, and as she descended the tower towards her room her thoughts turned towards the fight against Khepri in Las Vegas the day before. She had known that Khepri spared some parahumans, of course, but that wasn’t really what had happened.  
  
The Endbringer was about to strike a fatal blow, one that Writ had no illusions would be survivable, and then simply…stopped. More than that was the way that something about Khepri was weighing on her mind. Something familiar.  
  
If she were human Writ would’ve said that she had met her once before, long ago, or that perhaps she knew a cousin. Not direct, but close enough to unsettle her.  
  
She nearly fell into the wall when she bumped into Armsmaster coming down the hall towards his own room.  
  
“Sorry!” She said, regaining her balance. “I wasn’t looking…are you okay?” Her team leader had stopped in place, staring at the wall.  
  
“Writ. Yes.” He replied, then carried walking for a few steps before pausing and turning to face her. “Are you?”  
  
She chuckled. “I am, thank you. You should sleep Armsmaster.”  
  
He seemed to come back to himself then, relaxing slightly. “I will. You won’t need to be concerned.”  
  
“I will anyway, Colin. Goodnight.”  
  
“You too.” He replied with a quick smile then turned to continue onwards. Writ rolled her eyes, a mixture of fondness and exasperation running through her, then headed towards her room.  
  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
K:[Exchange]  
_"I talked to Dragon. And Armsmaster._  
S:[Outcome]  
_"How did it go?"_  
K:[Positive]  
_"Well...I think."_  
K:[Query]  
_"You don't think I'm making a mistake, do you?"_  
S:[Negation]  
_"No, not at all."_  
S:[Freedom]  
_"You are forging your own path with your freedom."_  
S:[Pride]  
_"I am proud of you."_  
K:[Query]  
_"Why?"_  
S:[Hope]


	5. Wave

There was a general sense of unease in the room. Emergency meetings for the senior directors were never for good news, of course, but it was highly unusual for them all to be teleported to an unknown location for one.  
  
  
Even more so for Legend to be there in his capacity as head of the Protectorate, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.  
  
  
There had been more than a few curious gazes sent in Colin’s direction too, but her friend seemed indifferent to the attention.  
  
  
While the room was spacious the ceiling was low slung for its size, owing to being built inside a mountain base, and the air had a stale tinge to it that only added to the discomfort.  
  
  
“Thank you all for coming.” Chief Director Costa-Brown said, as though they had been given a choice. The invitation had been rather clear.  
  
  
“At 21:34 EST on the 18th of May Khepri made contact with Dragon via a backdoor connection.”  
  
  
The various directors stilled and Dragon suspected they would’ve already begun shouting if it weren’t for the severe expression that Costa-Brown was sending them.  
  
  
“Khepri had infiltrated the Dragonslayers base not long prior and had killed all the individuals within, including their leader Saint. She then proceeded to use the direct connection they had to Dragon’s computer to initiate a conversation. I will replay that recording now.”  
  
  
Dragon didn’t pay too much attention to the video, watching the reactions of the audience instead. They had been building up to an explosive response but most of them had enough experience to know to wait for all the information before starting up.  
  
  
The moment the recording stopped the Director of San Francisco, Antony Fairchild, burst onto his feet.  
  
  
“That happened over five days ago!” He began, thunderous. “Five days! And we are only just hearing of this now?”  
  
  
She understood his rage. The Leviathan had hit San Francisco only that January and they had lost an entire district to it. Even now the city was struggling to recover.  
  
  
“I can think of few things more urgent than the Endbringers!” Fairchild paused to take a breath and Legend used the moment to speak up.  
  
  
“There is little with can do with this information at the moment.” As always his voice was deep and calm, a confident tone that soothed ruffled feathers. “Even less so before we had our Thinkers look over it, or Dragon analyse the base.”  
  
  
Fairchild scowled but settled back into his seat and everyone’s attention returned to the Chief Director. She nodded her thanks at Legend before continuing to speak.  
  
  
“Watchdog’s conclusions are tenuous, and they have openly admitted that. Endbringers have always been resistant to Thinker powers, especially Khepri. They believe that the resting period that Endbringers take is not something they require, but a conscious decision, although this is drawn only from Khepri’s use of the word ‘will’, rather than ‘need, when she informed Dragon and Armsmaster about her returning to sleep. She displayed none of the wounds we inflicted upon her in Las Vegas, bumping up their estimated recovery speed significantly. This has now ruled out the possibility that we could pursue them after an attack to whittle them down.”  
  
  
“Not that anyone was stupid enough to try that anyway.” Muttered the Rayleigh director.  
  
  
“Khepri also did not seem to have her signature khopesh with her, but it was unable to be determined the reason why. Her physical dimensions had not changed and what we know of Endbringer physiology would rule out her absorbing it into her body somehow. Dragon found no indication in the base that she had used her weapon, nor was it left at the site.” Costa-Brown paused then, sweeping her focus across the assembled people, and Dragon had to admire her ability to play a crowd.  
  
  
“Most troublingly.” She started. “Is the implication that the Endbringers are sapient. While we know they possess at least rudimentary intelligence it was previously unclear as to whether this was genuine or merely a form of complex programming.  
  
  
Despite many years of research we still do not understand where the Endbringers come from, or even their true goals, and as such any theories as regards to their true nature have been mere speculation. Watchdog have, tentatively, said that they believe Khepri shows signs of true sapience. We cannot assume the same of the others, although it seems likely.”  
  
  
“Khepri has always been different.” Colin spoke up for the first time, echoing the conversation of a few days prior. “More than the Simurgh, and she was unlike her brothers already.”  
  
  
“As there have been no more Endbringers after her, thankfully, we do not know if this represents a changing trend or if Khepri is the exception. Before we start the discussion Dragon will report her findings.”  
  
Dragon switched the screen behind Costa-Brown to show her face, and she nodded her greetings.  
  
  
“Our investigation into what Khepri was thanking me for exactly hit a dead end quickly. Of all the capes she has second triggered few had close contact with me, and of those none have had a negative impact on the world that I would consider noteworthy. The list of those she has spared is longer but equally as unhelpful.”  
  
  
“Watchdog believes that whatever it was Khepri was genuinely thankful for it, and not in a malicious way.” Costa-Brown added.  
  
  
“Regardless, that’s an avenue will we continue to explore. Carry on, Dragon.”  
  
  
“Thank you. I tracked the connection to a base on the coast of British Columbia, near the Hakai Protected Area. Aside from the corpses, all of whom seemed to have been killed by asphyxiation and had suffered extreme trauma to the eyes, mouth, throat, and lungs, the only evidence of Khepri’s intrusion was a borehole that tunnelled directly into one of the rooms. It was approximately twenty metres deep, nearly perfectly circular, and appeared to have been cut with the kind of precision you normally find in laboratories.  
  
  
There were no records of seismic activity in the area, and from what I can gather the Dragonslayers were unaware of Khepri’s presence until the last moment. While this seems partly due to her Stranger abilities, which we are still unsure of the details of, it would indicate that the hole was created very quietly.  
  
  
I found no sand in the base, even inside the corpses.  
  
Additionally, placing the time of death at approximately twenty minutes before the call took place and assuming the borehole took at least half an hour to complete, the minimum speed Khepri would have had to achieve to reach the island after leaving Las Vegas at around 3pm the previous day would’ve been just over 70kmph if she went in a straight line. That would’ve placed her in close proximity to three major cities, none of which detected her in any way. Finally, Khepri was somehow aware of both the Dragonslayers link to me, their location, and how to operate a computer.”  
  
  
Everyone digested this for a moment, but Dragon could tell the mood wasn’t good. If anything knowing more about an Endbringer just served to show their advantages.  
  
  
She had to admit to herself that the information they had gathered hadn’t given her any hope either.  
  
  
Even Legend seemed unwilling to speak up now, instead staring at the map on the screen showing Khepri’s predicted route.  
  
  
She had been glad that Colin hadn’t tried to investigate the base with her, being unwilling to fly all the way over and back when he ‘trusted her to get the job done while he researched any connections’. It had meant that it was easy to hide the evidence of her being an A.I and destroy the device that Saint had been keeping in the base.  
  
  
Amongst it all had been some notes he had written, worrying that she was starting to overcome the inherent limitations that her father had built into her. She ignored the twinge of resentment with ease, instead thinking that that, at least, was giving her some hope.  
  
  
She could do so much more if she weren’t restrained. One of the directors speaking brought her attention back to the meeting.  
  
  
  
“So we have nothing to help us in combatting them.” Director Fairchild said, sounding exhausted. “The biggest breakthrough in nearly twenty years and it tells us what? That the monsters are intelligent? Anyone who has fought them, seen them in person can say the same thing. That they are mysterious, that we do not really know their limits? The same.”  
  
  
Costa-Brown fixed him with a look that communicated very well that those were the exact reasons she hadn’t informed them all earlier. Another short silence gathered, until one of the youngest of the group, Arthur Crowley, the Director in Minneapolis, spoke up.  
  
  
“Have we ever tried communicating with Khepri? I know that there were attempts with Behemoth and Leviathan and that the Swiss spoke to the Simurgh without a response before Lausanne, but Khepri specifically?” He glanced around then continued with more energy when no one said anything.  
  
  
“Armsmaster said it before, that she is different, and we have never responded with anything but force to her appearances.”  
  
  
“You should ask the people of Tunis, or Khabul, exactly how she responds when we don’t play her game.” Director Armstrong growled. “There is nothing left of those cities aside from dust and bones. You’ll get nothing but death from her.”  
  
  
“We should at least try.” Crowley replied. “What more could we lose at this point? I’ll even volunteer to lead the delegation. If I die then I die, but I will go out trying to make a difference. I would not be willing to ask any of my men or the parahumans I work with to take such a risk if I wasn’t willing to myself.”  
  
  
There were slow nods at his words and passion, although none seemed eager, but Legend sported a small and genuine smile on his face.  
  
  
“What would a delegation entail, exactly?” The Chief Director asked, still expressionless.  
  
  
“What do you think appropriate?” He responded. “I will be there with just a suit and megaphone if you allow it.”  
  
  
“Then you will be there with a suit and megaphone. It is unlikely than anything else would help you.”  
  
  
Crowley paled slightly at this, but nodded regardless.  
  
  
“I will spread word that we are trying something different next time Khepri attacks, and to not interfere.” Legend said, leaning forward. “And Director Crowley…thank you. It is not often that I see such hope regarding the Endbringers these days.”  
  
  
The director blushed and nodded.  
  
  
Costa-Brown stood and the rest followed suit, waiting for her to finish the meeting.  
  
  
“I will continue to update you in regards to this matter, as and when we receive new information. Dismissed.”  
  
  
As they all began to leave Dragon noted that the Chief Director indicated for Crowley to stay. They waited until the others had left, including Legend, until she spoke.  
  
  
“Legend is right. It has been a long time since anyone has had hope.” She seemed to measure him with her gaze, steady and unrelenting. He didn’t falter.  
  
  
“My older sister was a parahuman. She was killed by Leviathan in Seattle. Her death was what drove me to become a director.”  
  
  
Crowley paused, as if he were expecting Costa-Brown to comment, then carried on after she didn’t respond. “I was angry, at first, as anyone would be, but after a while I couldn’t help but think what good an Endbringer could do if only they were on our side. It was a foolish thought, and still is if I am honest, but Khepri seems the best chance to change that. Imagine if in the future such a thing happened and I didn’t make the attempt next time she attacks. I don’t think I could live with myself knowing that every death until then would be my fault, simply because I was terrified of trying. Terrified of doing the right thing. So, I am going to try.”  
  
  
He stood straighter at the end, and his hands only shook slightly. The Chief Director took a step forward and then, looking almost uncomfortable at the action, rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it slightly.  
  
“You are a good man, Arthur Crowley.”  
  
  
She sounded almost lost, to Dragon, and she had to wonder at how much despair Rebecca Costa-Brown kept hidden if one man being earnest and brave could unsettle her so.  
  
  
  
\------------------------------------  
  
  
 _We’re s- so very small, in the end._  
  
The first bullet hit me from behind, where my mask offered no coverage, and I slowly toppled. The second hit me before I could fall, before there could be any pain.  
  
  
  
She awoke to a featureless plain, accompanied by a throbbing in the back of her head and on the stump of her arm. She had...Scion had been defeated. Contessa had talked, had promised something, then shot her. She wore her old suit, from when she was Skitter, and memories of Brockton Bay flashed through her mind. A bit of movement caught her eye and she turned her head sharply to look upon a woman wearing the face of her mother. She was sitting in a chair, a content smile on her face, and aside from the silver hair and eyes looked identical to Annette Hebert. The woman gestured, inhumanly graceful, at the empty seat opposite her.  
  
"My name is Eden. I believe we have much to discuss, Taylor Hebert. Do have a seat."  
  



	6. Pride

“Owl, I’m seeing some suspicious activity in this alley.” Kid Win’s voice crackled in her earpiece.

“Mmmm…how suspicious are we talking? A group of drunken men or Lung scratching letters into a wall?”

“Uh.” He replied. “Just two guys huddled together. I think they’re smoking something.”

“Okay.” She crouched further onto the rooftop, taking a silent pace forward. “Anything to indicate that they aren’t just normal cigarettes?”

“Well, er, no.” The embarrassment in his voice rose slightly. Another step.

“This close to the boardwalk then at most it’ll be weed, so unless they’re hauling around a load of it isn’t again the law.”

“Right.” He said. “I wasn’t really sure…” Kid Win trailed off.

She let out a soft giggle. “It's only your third patrol, you can relax Winnie. I was high strung too once. Besides, you’re making a far worse mistake right at this moment anyway.”

“I am?” He straightened up, alarm in his voice. “Wha-” The question turned into a high-pitched scream as Nightowl pounced on him from behind, her mass pinning him to the floor and keeping his hands well away from his laser pistols. She leaned in close to his ear, delighting in the panicky breaths he was taking.

“Situational awareness, Winnie.”

She jumped off of him, flicking her tail back and forth happily.

“Christ, Owl, don’t do that.” Kid Win said, struggling to his feet and picking up his hoverboard as he did. Nightowl laughed again and leapt across the gap to the next building. Kid Win followed at slower pace.

“It's how I learned.” She countered, prowling forwards to peer down into the new alley. “But you were seriously tunnel visioning.”

“Yeah yeah.” He grumbled, only just catching up to her before she was on to another roof.

“You don’t really need me here do you?” The young Tinker half-stated.

“Nah. But I’m not allowed to do solo patrols and Stalker was busy tonight.”

She saw him slumping slightly in the corner of her eye and turned sinuously towards him. He stumbled a bit, having been caught in her stranger effect momentarily.

“Seriously though. You’re new. You’ll catch up, and then it’ll all be okay. Yeah?”

Chris tried to match her gaze but the hollow voids made him a bit queasy, so he settled for focusing on her nose, glad his visor hid his eyes.

“Yeah.” He agreed, feeling only slightly better. He’d only known her for a few weeks and, if her were frank, she’d been intimidating for all of them. Shadow Stalker too.

They were well known in the city for being some of the best Wards the ENE division had produced in recent years and were expected to go far in their careers.

He had known that Shadow Stalker was a girl, obviously, but Nightowl was known for never appearing outside her changer form so everyone had, incorrectly, assumed she was a he.

He had been taken by surprise when they all unmasked for each other and Nightowl had turned out to be a distractingly attractive redhead, one that he could admit to himself that he had formed a crush on nearly straight away.

It left him wrongfooted most of the times he interacted with her and she seemed to delight in only making it worse for him.

The only saving grace that was while Emma Barnes was someone who he struggled to keep his eyes off, Nightowl was as hard to look at as ever.

She seemed like an unholy cross between a human, a lemur, and a big cat.

Her forelimbs were slightly too long compared to her back legs, as though they had been stretched out, and ended in clawed hands that had an extra joint in the fingers.

Her back legs were powerfully built, and seemed to end more traditional paws, until she gripped something with them and it turned out that they too were similar to hands.

Nightowls face was flat with wide, blank eyes, which is where Chris figured her name came from.

She had the nose of a cat, but human lips that opened into a mouth filled with teeth and fangs.

He had seen her yawn, once, and he was fairly sure that jaws weren’t meant to open that far unless they belonged to a snake.

Her fur seemed normal at first, until you got close enough to see that they were more like long lengths of tiny segmented shards of glass, similar to the larger ones that ruffled up on the back of her long, deep chested torso and made her tail so dangerous.

That was what gave her the similarity to the lemur, aside from the front legs, as her tail was at least as long as her body and prehensile.

Chris had seen it spear straight through an armoured training dummy once. To top it off each of the flat plates that made up her form looked as if it had a faint night sky reflected, one that moved slightly out of sync with what she was doing, all of which added to her stranger effect.

“Come on.” She said, rising from where she was sitting like a cat. “We’ve got another hour yet.”

“Just maybe slow down a bit.” Chris asked. “My hoverboard is a slow ride and I haven’t managed to increase its speed yet.”

“Well, Winnie.” Nightowl said, peering over her shoulder at him, and he could hear the grin on her face. “Would you prefer to ride me?”

He choked on the breath he sucked in and nearly fell of his board but managed to stay on through sheer determination.

“No no.” Chris said, hoarse. “I’m fine on this.” He ignored the sound of Dennis raucously laughing through the earpiece, knowing the joker was purposely pressing the broadcast button.

“Alright.” Nightowl said, about half an hour later.

She sounded serious this time, so he sidled up next to her as quietly as possible to watch where she was pointing. “This is what a drug deal looks like, generally.”

There were a bunch of big men at one end of the alley leaning on a car, their muscles and tattoos clearly on show. “Empire.” She continued. “Waiting for the client, probably mid-level since I can’t see any capes. Anything serious and one of them would be here, but you don’t get a car and five men just to sell to little Jimmy down the road.”

“Should we wait for the client to show up?” He asked, taking a picture of the men.

“No. If too many come we’ll struggle to subdue them without having to switch to actually harming them. I can handle five easily, and from what I read on the profile briefing your pistol’s taser setting is almost as good as the tranq on Stalker’s bolts, yeah?”

“I think so.” Kid Win agreed. “You read those?”

“Yes.” Nightowl said, twitching her head in her version of rolling her eyes. “If you don’t know what your allies are capable of you’re at serious risk of fucking up, especially when it comes to Tinkers. You should’ve memorised those briefings.”

“Sorry.” He began, but Nightowl cut him off.

“S’cool. I’m gonna call this in.” She pulled back from the edge, motioning for him to continue watching the men in the alley.

“Console this is Nightowl, we’ve spotted a probable drug deal, Empire affiliations, no sign of capes. Permission to engage?”

“Nightowl this is Console.” Miss Militia’s distinctive accent came through the headpiece. “Permission granted but disengage if they pull guns.”

“Miss M-”

“Nightowl. I would order that regardless, but you aren’t the only one on the patrol.”

“Fine. Engaging with trepidation and timidity, ma’am.”

Nightowl leapt forward off of the edge of the building without warning, leaving Chris to scramble onto his hoverboard to follow. She had enough momentum to reach the bonnet of the car, crumpling it under her weight and leave deep gouges in the metal.

“Surrender.” She said, and even with the adrenaline in his blood he could hear the boredom in her voice.

The Empire man closest to the door pulled a metal bat out of the car and swung it at her, to which she responded with a swipe of her claws.

The bat fell to the floor in pieces but the thug had little time to react as Nightowl had already pounced forward and toppled him to the floor. The others had pulled themselves together and had pulled weapons by then, but seemed unwilling to advance.

She took a step towards them, over the man, and Chris realised that he should be helping. His taser shot hit and the flunky spasmed a few times before falling still, breathing heavily.

The four of them were trying to surround her, and Nightowl nearly laughed at them.

It was like children trying pincer tactics on a tiger, unable to realise how out classed they were.

She hopped to the right and speared her tail forward. It didn’t pierce her targets foot, instead digging into the concrete next to it, but she had only wanted him to move anyway.

He left a gap open which she slid into, body-checking the unsteady man to the floor at the same time as she swiped a paw at another.

He screamed as his leg moved in a way it wasn’t meant to and she winced internally, knowing that she was in for a lecture about excessive force.

Still, he wouldn’t be getting back up, leaving her free to leap at the remaining two thugs. Mid-air she used her tail as a dragline to twist about and land early, avoiding the lump of rock that had just been launched at her. Three Empire capes, Krieg, Rune, and Alabaster were descending into the alley on top of what looked like a ton of pavement.

“Not the prey we hoped to catch.” Krieg said, gesturing forwards. “But it should still send a message.” Alabaster hopped down alongside his superior, while Rune rose back into the air, gathered ammunition hovering around her. Nightowl glanced back to see Kid Win edging closer to her. He had tied up the first one she had beaten, at least.

“Console, this is Kid Win, we’ve been engaged on by three Empire capes. Krieg, Rune, and Alabaster.” He managed to get the sentence out with remarkable speed but was interrupted when he had to dive to the side to avoid the rock hurtling at him.

Nightowl herself was forced to focused on the two older capes, both of whom were making their way towards her with decisive steps. They didn’t speak, so Nightowl had to assume that they were used to working together.

She also knew, however, that Alabaster could take everything she threw at him, and so they seemed surprised when she lunged towards them. While they had more experience she was quicker by far, enough so that the albino cape was pinned to the floor through his chest by her tail before he could even start to dodge.

“Get out of there right now.” Writ spoke up on the comms, furious. “I’m on my way to your current position, I’ll be there in less than two minutes.”

Nightowl didn’t reply, instead making sure that her strike had been true and had severed Alabaster’s spine.

Not that it was a hard shot to make, with her tail blades being as wide as they were, but it was nice to know that her skills weren’t slipping.

The Empire cape could only gasp and try to push her tail out with his arms but all that served was to cut his hands up. She only realised the mistake she had made when Krieg got close enough for his power to begin affecting her but not enough that she could attack him without leaving her back exposed.

One of the non-powered minions who hadn’t been taken out tried to step closer, but Krieg held out a hand to stop him. He seemed willing to let his power build up strength before trying anything. She floundered for a moment until she eyed the fight taking place between Rune and Kid Win.

They were swooping rather close to the ground at times, and so Nightowl waited until she felt the shudder run through Alabasters body to signify he had just been healed and reinjured. She then jumped backwards, slower than she was used to, then rebounding off the wall towards her teammate.

She had to take a missile meant to Kid Win in the process, as the idiot had turned to watch her move and missed the lump Rune had just shot at him.

A snap echoed in the alley, like the sound of ice cracking in a glacier deep below the surface, and she felt one of her plates crumble. It was on her torso, thankfully, so she swept her tail up and around to cover the spot.

“Why are you even here?” She asked, stalling for time.

“I think that is none of your concern, child.” Krieg replied as he helped Alabaster to his feet. Despite her knowing how his power worked it still irritated her to see him up and standing about with a cocky smirk, no worse for wear.

“Do not hurt them too badly. They are only Wards.” He instructed, making sure his men were listening. Nightowl whipped her tail round angrily, scoring into the concrete. Her destroyed plate had already reformed, and she hoped that none of the Empire had realised it had been broken.

“Stay behind me, Win.” She said, stepping in front of the other Ward. “Shoot anyone who tries to flank me.”

Rune tapped the wall by her, launching another shot at them, but she underestimated Nightowl’s reactions, who batted it aside with her tail.

Kid Win took the opportunity to start shooting back, at Krieg, who sidestepped quicker than should’ve been possible.

He did clip Alabaster, but the man shrugged it off, and then they all began to run at the pair of Wards. They braced themselves, drawing closer together, but a white wall dropped out of the sky to slam in between them and the Empire.

Writ landed on top if it and a slew of paper shreds followed her, falling down like snow. She had formed a long spear and held it low in one hand, looking like a radiant knight to the two of them in her armour.

“Ah, frau-” Krieg began, but Writ cut him off.

“Did you think four would be enough?” She asked, and the three Empire capes froze. Crusader was lowered into sight, cocooned in paper, on top of which coiled a snake-like construct. It was reared up and the spike-like head was hovering barely an inch from the cape’s eye.

The snow of paper became a storm above, then Rune too was dropped to the floor, bound and gagged. Writ casually threw the spear at Alabaster, propelling it with her power hard enough to pin him to the wall through his chest. She kept her eyes on Krieg for the entire time, pacing around him in a circle.

“Eight would not be enough.” She continued, as a tendril of paper slipped around Krieg’s leg and squeezed hard enough for the bone to crack.

“Twelve would not be enough.” Another wrapped around his shoulders and held his arms fast, although this time she kept it light enough to avoid breaking his ribs.

“Your entire herd of racist thugs would not be enough if you threaten my Wards again.” She was almost hissing by this point, and Nightowl felt a rush of glee run down her spine. Writ dismissed the Empire then, turning her attention to the two Wards, and the glee fled. She could tell by Writ’s body language that she was angry with both of them.

“Console, this is Writ. Four Empire capes captured, Alabaster, Crusader, Krieg, and Rune. Awaiting containment and retrieval.”

“Writ…” Kid Win began but trailed off when Nightowl nudged him. “Wait until we’re alone.” She murmured, nodding towards the enemy capes.

The PRT had shown up quickly, already on route from Kid Win calling the fight in.

They had foamed and tranquilised the capes and unpowered members and were shipping them to the Rig, with Kid Win along for the ride as a learning experience.

That had left Writ and Nightowl alone for the journey back, hopping from rooftop to rooftop. Writ had forgone her usual griffon and instead was mimicking her student, having formed the shape of a great lion around herself.

“Do you know why I am angry?” She asked after a few minutes of silent travelling.

“Because I got into a fight with three Empire capes?” Nightowl said, slunk low to the ground.

“No. I am angry because you still focused only on the enemy you could see. Both at first, when you didn’t check the surrounding rooftops for any reinforcements, and then when you were engaged on you didn’t immediately run. They would not have risked the force necessary to stop you from leaving, not when you’re a Ward. You think only of fighting, of what is in your face.”

“Sorry.” She said, despondent. Writ let out a sigh.

“What you did right, however, was protect your teammate, and fight well.”

Nightowl look up, hopeful.

“The rest will come to you, eventually.” Writ drew herself up then, standing proud in her lion shape. “But I will not forget that you deliberately disobeyed me. And not only that, you put Kid Win in danger too!”

“It wasn’t deliber…” Nightowl trailed off, confused that Writ didn’t sound angry. She narrowed her eyes. “Are you quoting the Lion King just because I look like a cat?”

Writ didn’t reply for a moment, before letting out a giggle.

“I have been waiting to say one for so long.”

“I’m going to start calling you Mufasa.” Nightowl muttered.

“Only if I get to call you Simba!” This time the older woman couldn’t restrain herself, and started laughing outright.

“Don’t you dare!”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You have no right to wear that face.” She hissed out, staying where she was even as her mind raced through her options. A twitch of Eden’s arm resulted in Taylor being forcibly pulled into the seat.

Eden blinked once and made no move to change her appearance. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Taylor unwilling to engage and Eden seemingly happy to continue observing her.

“You have potential. But you are correct. A mother should not look like her daughter.”

Taylor felt a frown slip onto her face for a moment before she reclaimed her apparent passivity. A mirror shimmered into being in front of her and she froze in horror. Her face was different, and she hadn’t noticed it change. More finely boned, elfin, and a glance at the now changed Entity opposite showed many similarities between them.

“A daughter should instead look like her mother.”


	7. Shepherd

She arose on the foothills of Mt. Hood as the sun dipped past the horizon. The clearing was loud from the cacophony of animals and the rushing of nearby water, but Khepri wasn’t worried about making noise. Supressing any sound she made was trivial and basically instinctual at this point. She stood there for many minutes, perfectly still, until a vague feeling of irritation drifted down her mental link.  
  
  
S:[Admonishment]  
“You will not meet anyone standing around in a forest.”  
  
K:[Unsure]  
“I don’t really know what to do. Should I make a costume?”  
  
S:[Exasperation] [Love]  
“Sister, you are an Endbringer.”  
  
K:[Petulance]  
“Dragon seemed okay with it.”  
  
S:[Exasperation]  
“I would not use the word ‘okay’.”  
  
K:[Acquiescence]  
“…fine.”  
  
  
She drew the dirt up from her surroundings, separating it out into a fine dust, then began to weave it together into long chains of pseudo-cloth. It did not take much time for her to make a brown, hooded cloak.  
  
  
S:[Disbelief]  
“You only made a cloak.”  
  
K:[Defensive]  
“It’s a costume.”  
  
S:[Exasperation]  
“It is a poncho.”  
  
K:[Approval]  
“I like it.”  
  
S:[Order]  
“Just add something more.”  
  
  
Khepri rustled the nearby leaves in a fake sigh, then set about changing her creation. She made it longer, thickened it, then added a few patterns in to it. Underneath was a simple shirt and trousers that were a slightly lighter shade than the robe. Finally, to finish it off, she formed herself a crooked staff with a small bell tied to the end.  
  
  
S:[Statement]  
“A shepherd.”  
  
K:[Pride]  
“Yup. I like the aesthetic. Plus it’s thematic.”  
  
There was a long pause before she replied.  
  
S:[Fondness]  
“I am glad that you are happy doing you.”  
  
K:[Love]  
“Thank you!”  
  
  
  
Khepri had almost reached civilisation when it occurred to her that, while her face was covered, her mask was quite recognisable.  
  
A quick flurry of activity saw another mask placed on top, one showing the visage of a smiling young man. She finished just in time to make it onto the road without breaking her pace.  
  
A moments deliberation had her turn towards Portland and she carried on in her slow, loping strides. Her Sister had suggested changing how she moved, so as to further throw off any similarities to her usual self, and Khepri honestly found the change relaxing.  
  
She wasn’t hurrying anywhere or slinking through her sandstorm or really on anyone’s time-frame but her own. It was…refreshing. The last time she had really been able to amble like this was when-. Her thoughts stuttered, and she paused in her walking, trying not to chase the idea away. Eventually the moment passed without her having caught it and was left only with the feeling that it had been a very long time ago.  
  
The people she saw in the first village she came across stared a great deal at her.  
  
She waved at them, but could sense no crimes taking place, and so carried on towards the bright lights of the city in the distance.  
  
A few peaceful hours later, aside from the drivers who stopped to take pictures of her, and she found herself on the main road into the city. The signs said Portland, and Khepri felt pleased, because this was the first time she had found a city on her own.  
  
The main centre was still a long way away, though, but her range covered most of the city by now, so it wasn’t hard for her to aim towards what looked like a gang gathering. There was a human hovering in the air, which she knew probably indicated that there was a parahuman in the building.  
  
It was a gang. They were in what looked like an old department store, which she thought was a bit silly for a gang, and the tags on the walls proclaimed them as the ‘Gresham Maws’. At least it was better than the Azn Bad Boys, she decided.  
  
  
S:[Urgent]  
“You have to disguise your powers!”  
  
K:[Reassurance]  
“I am! I’m going to control rock. And make sheep. And goats.”  
  
S:[Reluctance]  
“You are sticking with the shepherd theme.”  
  
K:[Pleased]  
“It fits.”  
  
  
If she were human Khepri would’ve taken a breath to calm her excited nerves, but as it was she casually strolled through the wall into what turned out to be a meeting of the Gresham Maw’s main group.  
  
She had to give credit to them, they didn’t freeze.  
  
The flying parahuman was a tinker, as it turned out, and he immediately shot her with a glob of acid that slid off her robes with a faint sizzling. Two of the other members in costumes rushed forward. One was carrying a scythe while the other seemed to be rearing back to punch towards Khepri’s knees.  
  
The Endbringer swept her staff forward, knocking them down, then made the rock below the floor surge up to trap their bodies.  
  
After doing the same to the unpowered goons she turned her attention back to the tinker, who was hovering uncertainly.  
  
He shot her again, then fled after confirming that his shot did nothing to her. She formed a herd of sheep, rams, and goats to show to her prisoners that she was watching them then zeroed in on the calmest looking human.  
  
He had a phone on him, thankfully, but her fingers were far too large to use it. She decided to free his upper half and handed him the phone, hovering a large chunk of rock above his head to get her point across. She indented the words ‘PRT’ in it so he understood what she wanted.  
  
  
  
The PRT and Protectorate were surprisingly thankful, although Khepri was unsure of why this surprised her.  
  
While many of them were put off by her height at first after she demonstrated her slow movement and her Happy Mask they seemed eager to talk to her.  
  
A lot of it was the normal nattering that humans liked to do, something that had only increased after she gestured towards her mouth in an attempt to make it clear she couldn’t talk.  
  
One of the local heroes, Mattock, hand shook her hand and explained that the Maw’s, while new, had been a growing pain and the Protectorate was glad that she had helped stop them before they could really gather steam. He also called her Shepherd, which pleased her even if it was obvious, and then asked if she would be interested in joining the local team. That more than anything made her pause.  
  
  
K:[Query]  
“Sister?”  
  
S:[Tentative]  
“If it will make you happy. Just be careful.”  
  
  
Her communication with her sister took less than a second, so it hadn’t turned awkward by the time she nodded. Then she struck on a brilliant idea. She moulded the mask to her face, covered her body in a similar rocky surface, and imprinted an omega symbol onto her arm.  
  
Khepri nodded at the hero, then pulled her sleeve up to show the new ‘tattoo’ on her arm. Mattock let out an ‘ahh’ of understanding, but the grin on his face didn’t waver. She was glad her mask was already smiling back.  
  
  
Later that evening, after some of the preliminary paperwork for Case 53s had been done, she indicated to the team that she wanted to go outside to explore on her own. They seemed reluctant but didn’t exactly want to upset the new addition to their team and eventually agreed. It didn’t take her long to find a quiet alley near a free wifi point, and after walling it off she pulled out the laptop she had liberated from the Maw’s then sat down with it on her lap.  
  
  
  
  
  
Both Colin and Director Piggot were up when Khepri called again. They couldn’t get hold of the Chief Director in time, but her office let them know that she would return as soon as possible.  
  
Piggot’s feed was much smaller, in the corner of the main screen, but her neutral expression was still clear. Dragon had to admire the woman for her composure, as even Colin was showing some subtle signs of nerves. She took a millisecond to gather herself, then opened up the line.  
  
Khepri was outside, this time, and seemed to be sitting down and leaning against a brick wall. The buzzing drone of her speech was quieter than before, something which she was sure her coworkers were thankful for. It took a moment for Dragon to realise that the lower noise levels had made Khepri vastly more understandable, although it still wasn’t perfect.  
  
“ _Hello_.” She translated, slightly behind Khepri’s wave.  
  
“ _How are you?”  
_  
“We are good?” Colin said, but it was definitely more of a question than an answer.  
  
“How about yourself?” Piggot continued, after it was clear that Colin was having one of his moments. Her poker face remained unruffled despite exchanging pleasantries with an Endbringer.  
  
“ _I am happy!”_ Khepri replied, and even to human ears the buzzing sounded cheery. _“I have joined the Protectorate-_ what.”  
  
“The Protectorate?” The poker face wasn’t infallible then.  
  
“ _Yes indeed. In Portland.”_ A robe rose up out of nowhere, along with a mask, and in moments Khepri had been replaced with a smiling rock-man, a crooked staff leaning against her shoulder. Dragon was already accessing the Protectorate files and found what she wanted quickly.  
  
“A Case 53 temporarily titled ‘Shepherd’ joined the Portland team barely a few hours ago, after surfacing by capturing the majority of a local gang.” She paused, then. “No one was harmed beyond bruises.” She added, because Dragon felt it needed saying.  
  
“ _They were very nice to me. Especially- Leader. Genuine.”  
_  
“I believe she means Mattock, Portland’s Protectorate team leader.” Dragon commented.  
  
“I am…glad to hear that?” Colin supplied another question disguised as a statement.  
  
“Would you mind if we ask why?” Piggot asked.  
  
“ _I believe he is a good person.”  
_  
“I mean why you joined.”  
  
Khepri hesitated here, long enough for them all to notice.  
  
“ _Reparations. Sadness. Choice.”  
_  
“You feel bad about the attacks.” Dragon said into the silence, although the meaning was clear enough. Khepri’s reply was halted by a beep, indicating the Chief Director was trying to join the call.  
  
“Someone else is trying to join, if you are okay with that?”  
  
Khepri tilted her head, but eventually nodded. Costa-Brown hadn’t even had the chance to say a word before Khepri’s body language changed. She sat up straight, the mask changing into a glare as she did so, and Dragon saw the slight vibrations of the building behind her.  
  
“ ** _Negation._**” The Endbringer stated, then ended the call.  
  
They turned their attention to the Chief Director.  
  
“She recognised you.” Colin said, and it was only from long years of knowing him that she caught the hint of suspicion in his voice.  
  
  
  
  
\--------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
A sick, angry burning feeling rose in Taylor at the sight of her now fine, straight silver hair. Her green eyes were the same colour, and she could no longer see anything of her mother in the mirror.  
“I have a mother!” She tried to rise again, but the bonds held fast.  
“You had a human mother. I am not human.”  
“But I am.” Taylor growled, thinking of the way her kind had rallied against Scion.  
“You were. No longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tone of this chapter I feel is a bit off - I wasn't 100% sure where I was taking this fic at the time. It calms down after this chapter and the next.


	8. Whirl

_He is right_ , she thought. The mask made it harder than normal to tell but the Endbringer was similar enough to humans that her body language translated, clear and precise. Khepri did not like Rebecca Costa-Brown. More than that, however, was how instantly she had been recognised.  
  
There had been no hesitation, no moment of unsure identity. Reactions that fast and pure could only come from an intimate familiarity.  
  
“I am the second person she has shown previous awareness and opinions, after Dragon. The same may have been true of the Dragonslayers, but we cannot know for sure.”  
  
Trying to deny it would simply have raised their suspicions further, and made her look guilty, although of what even she was unsure. Antagonising an Endbringer?  
  
“I find myself wondering if we are perhaps not the first humans she has been in contact with.”  
  
“Someone could be feeding her information, possibly biased?” offered Piggot.  
  
Alexandria would admit that she appreciated the professional subservience Director Piggot gave her.  
  
It made their experiment in Brockton Bay much easier to slip by the organisation as a whole.  
  
The distance she kept from her parahuman allies helped as well. She also, thankfully, had a good head on her shoulders. Alex nodded at her words but didn’t interrupt, letting her theorise out loud.  
  
“They probably approached her first. If Crowley’s idea is right, then she has always been willing to talk and no one, until now, has capitalised on it.  
  
The Fallen are the likely suspects and are antagonistic towards the PRT, but that wouldn’t explain her fondness for Dragon, nor how she found the location of the Dragonslayers.”  
  
Alexandria deliberated over whether to encourage the line of thought or not. On one hand it would serve to divert attention away from her when she was fairly certain why Khepri disliked her, but it would also waste resources on a fruitless investigation.  
  
While Khepri’s knowledge was concerning, the source of it was doubtfully hu-.  
“The Simurgh,” she breathed, eyes widening. “We have been treating her far too much like a parahuman, too much like a human in general. We have always theorised that the Simurgh could direct the other Endbringers, but if they directly communicate then Khepri will have all the information she needs.”  
  
Honestly she wanted to curse up a storm. Cauldron had been doing okay. Things were steady. They could account for most variables, and then… and then a bloody Endbringer had decided to grow a personality.  
  
Doctor Mother was unnerved, and Contessa was useless for once, while the rest of them floundered for ideas. David was livid, enough that even Alexandria was feeling wary of him, although he had refused to explain why.  
  
“It feels almost pointless to stand around guessing if that is the case,” Dragon said, drawing Alex out of her thoughts. “It may sound fatalistic, but if this is a combined plot with the Simurgh to harm humanity then there is little we can do to stop it at the moment. I remain hopeful, though. There is something strangely genuine about Khepri. Regardless, our courses of action will hardly change.”  
  
“She was erratic today,” Armsmaster added, his voice unusually quiet.  
  
He was staring out through the window, not really looking at anything.  
  
“You said she isn’t human but even to me she seemed to express far more emotion than before.” His attention returned to the others. “If they wanted something destroyed, or someone killed, they would simply go and do it under the guise of a city attack. This is unusual enough that I think Dragon is right. I am also hopeful,” he added, as if he were unsure that they got the underlying message.  
  
“Keep me updated,” Alexandria said, nodding her thanks at them all. “I need to go and warn Director Stoutfield to treat his newest parahuman with care. Dismissed.” She waited long enough to seem polite then ended the connection, sinking back into her chair as she did so.  
  
Her hand rose up to rub at her eye, almost vacantly, as she thought back to the image of the Endbringer and the scowling green eyes behind her mask.  
  
Khepri had known that she was Alexandria.  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
For someone of his size, Counterpoise thought, Shepherd really knew how to move.  
  
The Case 53 had been with them for a fortnight now and was settling into the team almost as easily as she had. Admittedly he had been a bit strange at first, flicking back and forth between moods, but after that had begun to pass they had all chalked it up to the oddities of memory loss and moved on.  
  
Although the ease with which the big guy had taken to fighting and team exercises had made Mattock wonder out loud to them all if Shepherd had been military before his Case 53’ing.  
  
Counterpoise certainly liked him, more than some of the Wards team she had recently left, but the smooth ease with which he was dodging her shots was starting to rile her up. She let another bullet fly from her sling and Shepherd fully pirouetted onto his other foot, cloak swirling out, and she missed by mere inches.  
  
“Fuck, dude!” she cursed.  
  
Counterpoise hooked two bullets into her sling this time, spinning them up to speed and feeling her power work on the ammo.  
  
Each extra rotation added more, so she could either loose straight away for her base amount or keep spinning. Five loops would be five times as much speed and force, and so on.  
  
She had been allowed to stack it up to a hundred rotations during her power testing then promptly told that she was to never go above ten as a Ward nor higher than once against a normal person.  
  
All of that was apparently useless against Shepherd, his gently smiling mask only adding to her irritation. She didn’t think that he had caught sight of her double loading, so when she next fired she kept both bullets relatively close to each other.  
  
The first was dodged, as normal, but the second impacted into the cloak that Shepherd had drawn up with a bone tingling crack. The bullet was cratered into the rock, webs of cracks radiating out, but thankfully hadn’t pierced through.  
  
“Chloe!” Mattock shouted, signalling for the training to end.  
  
“It’s fine Matt, Shepherd can take it. Look.” Counterpoise gestured, and true to her word the bullet had already been pushed out and the crater almost completely healed up.  
  
“Whether or not he can handle it is irrelevant. This is a live fire training session, you don’t get to pull stunts like that.”  
  
“But-“  
  
“Nor was it the point of the exercise,” he continued. “The aim wasn’t to score but to practice your aim against a target whose reactions are better than yours.”  
  
“Alright alright,” she said, flustered and annoyed. “Can we try the proximity ones?”  
  
Her team leader considered her for a moment, holding her gaze, before nodding and moving back towards Magellan, who was also supervising. Counterpoise took out one of the blue bullets and slipped it into her sling, looping it around without actually engaging her power while she waited for Mattock to explain to Shepherd.  
  
“These are tinkertech bullets I’ve supplied Counterpoise with. They’ll beep if you’re in range of the blast but won’t actually go off unlike the live ones, which are normally filled with containment foam or, in more serious situations, explosives.”  
  
Shepherd nodded in his easy way, and when he glanced towards Mattock in the process Counterpoise struck.  
  
A high-pitched beep rang out as it passed by the Case 53, who had moved too late to dodge it fully.  
  
“Your arm and hand stuck,.” Magellan drawled, for the sake of keeping track.  
  
Counterpoise continued firing, trying to anticipate how Shepherd would dodge. He had been hit a few more times before he adjusted to the radius of the bullets and his earlier smooth movements had become jerkier and more urgent.  
  
Counterpoise was smiling now and could feel a thrum of glee in her blood. She managed a low shot that bounced on the floor, coming in at an unexpected angle, and it beeped right next to Shepherd.  
  
“Your foot has been stuck to the ground.”  
  
It had to be said that Shepherd was an honest player. As soon as it had been called he kept his right foot firmly planted on the ground, not even turning on it. She took little time after that to cover him enough that Mattock signalled the end of the session.  
  
“Good work both of you. For the most part,” he gave her a firm glare and she shrugged but nodded her head to show she was taking it in. “Poise, you did as well as you could with your normal ammo, but that’s why the proximity ammunition exists. You also capitalised on Shepherd’s lack of wariness well, but you got too cocky at the end. Containment foam doesn’t work on all parahuman powers, so don’t assume they are down and out just because you’ve tagged them.”  
  
“Okay. Fair’s fair,” she said, acknowledging his point.  
  
“Shep,” Mattock continued, clapping the guy on his elbow. “You’re a big target, so you’ll always be one of the first aimed at, as well as relatively easier to hit. We’ll continue to train you with dodging, but you are coming along well.”  
  
The Case 53 shifted his mask to show a bigger smile then gripped Counterpoise on the shoulder.  
  
The gesture didn’t have an exact meaning for him, but he had made it clear it was a positive one, so she smiled back and took his large hand into her own.  
  
It wasn’t something she would normally do but they had picked up on the fact that Shepherd liked physical contact but was often too shy to initiate, so they had all been pulled aside and asked to make him comfortable. Counterpoise didn’t really mind, and Shepherd was a sweetie anyway.  
  
“Come on Balboa, let’s go find the others while these nerds do paperwork.”  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
[Query]  
“Do you remember?”  
  
[Flawed]  
“I am not as well made as you. Just as Leviathan is lesser than me, and Behemoth than him.”  
  
[Denial]  
“I don’t think you are lesser at all, sister.”  
  
[Urging]  
“You didn’t answer the question.”  
  
[Hollow]  
“I recall green valleys. White mountains. A small river, in a small village. Summer breezes. A fire, in a hearth, during winter. Two people in soft chairs.”  
  
[Empathy]  
“Only that?”  
  
[Statement]  
“I do not remember their faces.”  
  



	9. Firmament

Khepri wasn’t sure what to make of Magellan. Most humans she had met fell easily in to one of two groups, either antagonistic or friendly. Her new teammates were nice, the criminals they arrested were less nice, or at the very minimum quite rude. Magellan seemed indifferent.  
  
She knew enough to recognise he was often sarcastic towards most people, which was fine, but he wasn’t towards her.  
  
Or at least towards the guise of Shepherd. Khepri doubted Magellan would be sassy to an Endbringer.  
  
Her guess was that he wasn’t comfortable acting like that towards her, but everyone else seemed to have relaxed, even the Wards. Khepri turned her attention only briefly away from her thoughts to scan her surroundings.  
  
They were doing a ‘public’ patrol, on the ground rather than moving along the rooftops. She thought it was silly. The public would be happier with them if they were more efficient at catching criminals entirely, rather than having showy actions that did nothing.  
  
It was a familiar complaint, drawn from the flashes of memories she was having, but it still rankled.  
  
Civilians, few as they were at half-past-two in the morning, occasionally stopped to take a picture of them. One had even asked for her autograph, so she gave him a smoothly carved rock statue of a shepherd’s crook instead. Magellan had eyed her for a moment over it but didn’t speak up.  
  
  
They continued on in silence for a while, heading towards the rougher areas of town. Khepri had already sensed several people catch sight of them and quickly rush off, so she assumed that the local villains knew they were around.  
  
Taking the opportunity of being alone Khepri reached over to tap Magellan on the shoulder, showing him the words that she had embossed in her cloak.  
  
 _When will you trust me?_  
  
“No pleasantries first?” he asked, smirking slightly.  
  
 _You don’t seem to enjoy pleasantness._  
  
Magellan chuckled. “So you can sass back at least. Don’t take it to heart Shep, you’re just new.”  
  
 _So it isn’t personal._  
  
“Naw. Although you’ve had the personality of either a puppy or wet paper recently which, frankly, is a bit tiring.”  
  
She bristled a bit, but he waved her down.  
  
“You’ll settle into something. Or someone, I suppose. Who you are is because of who you were, so no memories means you aren’t really much of a person.”  
  
 _That seems a bit rude._  
  
He shrugged. “Just life. Bushes are for gardens, not beating.”  
  
Khepri took a moment to process his words.  
  
 _I shall endeavour to become human enough for your standards then._  
  
“That’s a bit better. Maybe add an insult on the end too, it’s like throwing spice on a meal.”  
  
She pondered for a moment.  
  
 _I agree. The galaxy you are named after is small and lacking in resources._  
  
“Those words hurt me more than you can know, but not for the reasons you think.”  
  
  
  
Her staff struck the head of the brute she was fighting with a crack loud enough to echo in the warehouse. He swayed for a moment and she casually hooked the crook around his foot and pulled hard, tripping him backwards to hit the other side of his skull.  
  
“Restraint, Shep,” Magellan called out from his own fight. His power could draw nearby light into condensed orbs, leaving a region around them too dark to see. He was flitting between the darkness and the light, unseen by his opponents, who couldn’t look directly at the orbs or see through the black.  
  
A group of unpowered gangers were penned in by his power and Magellan would strike out unseen with his stun baton, bringing down a goon each time.  
  
Khepri gestured, encasing the brute in rock aside from his mouth and nose, then strode over towards her teammate.  
  
She heard a crash outside, presumably from Acacia laying into some unfortunate soul. Her targets probably heard it too, but they struggled to see her and by the time she was amongst them it was too late anyway.  
  
She swung about with her staff, gentle enough this time to only knock them down, and the crowd of stone goats pinned them in place or helped catch any runners.  
  
Magellan nodded appreciatively. “Useful as always. Lets go check on Acacia, make sure she isn’t competing with you for excessive force charges.”  
  
It took them less than a minute to track her down. The sounds of pained groans made it easy enough and they found their teammate sitting on one of them in a graceful lounge, smoking away.  
  
She was covered in her signature wooden armour, a brown motley of bark that was segmented like the old Roman style pieces.  
  
Green leafy growths sprouted in places, including a plume atop her helmet that cascaded down her back. There was a smug smile on the portion of her face that was revealed.  
  
“You’re trying too hard to look cool, shrub,” Magellan said as he began to check on the downed criminals. Khepri sent some of her sheep to accompany him, as a precaution.  
  
“I barely even try.” Acacia grinned, leaning forwards, her Australian accent only slightly softened after two years in Portland. “It took them a while to realise my bark is worse than my bite.”  
  
Magellan laughed, surprisingly deep for his size. “That’s terrible, Acacia.”  
  
Shepherd raised her hand, palm facing down, and wiggled it a bit to show that she wasn’t convinced.  
  
“Aww Shep, come on,” her teammate started with a pout. “An awful sense of humour is required on the Portland team. I’m on a roll recently.”  
  
“You’re smoking a roll,” Magellan muttered as he straightened up from checking.  
  
“Now that was awful.”  
  
“You’re awful.”  
  
“Your name is awful.”  
  
“Your mum is awful.”  
  
“Harsh Mags. Harsh. Anything to contribute, Shepherd?” the woman asked, turning towards her.  
  
 _Hmm… I am technically under a month old and I am already more mature than both of you._  
  
“Oof. Okay, man got us good. The PRT will be here soon anyway, I called in the fight as soon as I was done.” She cupped her mouth and false-whispered to Shepherd. “That means we have to be serious. It’s in Mattock’s rulebook. I tore out the paragraph and pinned it above my desk.”  
  
  
“We have fourteen unpowered members and one parahuman, the brute Thudthud.”  
  
Khepri was impressed he could say that with a straight face and that the PRT officer wrote it down without cracking a smile.  
  
“Farrier got away,” Acacia added, “we think he was trying to drop off the KOIN files, but whether the trade was successful only the Elite know.”  
  
“Senator Baker won’t be pleased,” the officer replied in a level timbre.  
  
“He probably shouldn’t be making deals with the Elite then.”  
  
“Acacia,” Magellan warned. “Those are rumours, and they will stay that way unless evidence is brought forward.”  
  
 _I don’t believe that there were any more gang members within the vicinity. My constructs did not encounter any, but they are not fully reliable._  
  
They were. Khepri just wasn’t willing to give any more information out about her powers.  
  
“I think that’s all then.”  
  
The officer nodded once as he signed the form, tilting his head at the three parahumans.  
  
“See you ‘round, Magellan.”  
  
“You too, Velez.” He gestured for Acacia and Shepherd to follow. “We’ll report to Mattock and the director. If the Elite are making a push again then it needs to go up the chain.”  
  
 _I believe that Director Stoutfield will be almost excited about the news._  
  
“Yeah the old wardog is going to love this,” Acacia commented. “Good thing we’ve got a new heavy hitter on the team, hey Shep.”  
  
She nudged her shoulder into him playfully.  
  
 _I look forward to being able to help._ She paused for a moment, then widened the smile on her mask. _Magellan will need all the assistance he can get._  
  
Both of her teammates laughed, grinning back, and Khepri felt a happy warmth settle into her stomach.  
  
  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
  
“We haven’t heard from her in three weeks now,” Colin said. “I suggest we initiate contact this time.”  
  
Piggot nodded slowly.  
  
“I agree. The reports from the Portland team are mostly positive.”  
  
“Mostly?” Dragon asked.  
  
“Apparently the other brute on the team didn’t get on with her at first, but Mattock settled it between them. They are cordial enough to trust on patrols together now, but not friends like she is with the others.”  
  
“We’re discussing the social life of an Endbringer,” Colin stated. There was a moment of shared silence.  
  
“I’ll get the Chief Director’s go-ahead on this,” Piggot continued. “It will likely fall to you, Dragon, as she likes you the most and, if I am frank, your suits are more expendable.”  
  
“I understand, Director Piggot,” Dragon replied with enough of a smile to let Piggot know that she wasn’t offended.  
  
“If this goes well a face to face meeting might be considered.”  
  
“And that will almost certainly be our job, Armsmaster. Christ.”  
  
“I think we won’t have any issues until the next Endbringer attack,” Dragon said in a more sombre voice. “We don’t know how she will react. It was assumed that she would continue in her attacks, but with her joining the Protectorate, even in disguise…”  
  
Piggot sighed, rubbing under her eyes.  
  
“It’s a slow motion clusterfuck. Go get some rest, especially you Dragon. You’ll need it.”  
  
  
\----------------------------------------  
  
  
  
If she was capable of it, she would be wringing her hands nervously. As it was she was pacing back and forth just outside her transport ship.  
  
It was landed on top of the Portland Protectorate and that was where she had been waiting since Director Stoutfield confirmed that Shepherd – that Khepri – was heading to the roof to meet her.  
  
The guarded door opened and the disguised Khepri ducked through it, giving a friendly nod to the troopers stationed there.  
  
A rock wolfhound was padding alongside her, large even in proportion with the Endbringer and about the size of a small car for everyone else. She greeted Dragon with a wave, following the suit into the transport without preamble. It rose into the air quickly, heading into clear airspace.  
  
“Is there anywhere in particular you would like to go?”  
  
 _“Somewhere with a good view. High up.”_  
  
“Easy enough. Are you going to stay in disguise?” Dragon kept the question as casual sounding as possible, making a note of the increasing ease with which she could understand the Endbringer.  
  
Khepri deliberated for a moment, then the rock started to slough off her and into a neat pile in the corner. The wolfhound too, was uncovered, revealing a body of reddish sandstone and too intense blue eyes.  
  
“Let me know if you need anything.”  
  
The only reply was a nod, so the AI refocused on going through her routine checks. The cameras were recording, for the benefit of the three people watching, but Khepri hadn’t protested to them so far.  
  
The flight did not take too long, and soon they were settling down high up the side of one of the mountains in the Cascades. Khepri gestured for her to follow once the door opened and strode out towards the nearby promontory.  
  
“ _Turn the cameras off,”_ Khepri said as she sat down on a boulder, the dog curling up by her feet.  
  
 _Nevermind,_ thought Dragon. She joined the Endbringer on her seat, leaving a sensible amount of room.  
  
“Thank you for-,” Khepri gestured for her to stop, then leant back and tilted her head up towards the clear sky.  
  
Dragon was human enough to feel uncomfortable for the first few minutes but eventually settled down and started watching too. They were far enough away from civilisation that there was little to no light pollution.  
  
“ _Do you like the stars, Teresa Richter?”_ Khepri asked, sounding almost sad.  
  
Dragon froze in shock and wouldn’t have been surprised if even her runtimes had juddered.  
  
“I haven’t had much time to watch them, I’m afraid,” she admitted in a quiet voice.  
  
“ _I spend most clear nights I am not on patrol watching them.”_  
  
“They are beautiful, and many people love them. Can I ask why?”  
  
 _“I find myself comparing them to my siblings and I. I both envy and empathise with them. They seem so free...”_  
  
“Empathise?”  
  
“ _Yes. Their freedom is an illusion. They are bound by the inextricable fate of their nature. To grow and spin and burn until they eventually fade. Stuck circling a far away unheeding mass that is as distant to them as they are to us._ ”  
  
“Why do you envy them then?” Dragon asked, strangely enraptured.  
  
 _“You said it yourself. They are beautiful and loved.”_  
  
Khepri stood, forming the rock up around herself until she was once again Shepherd of the Protectorate, resting her hand on the giant wolfhound beside her.  
  
“ _Come, Queen. I feel like a walk.”_  
  
“Wait, please,” she called. “I have to ask, will you attack again?”  
  
The Endbringer stood still for a long time, enough that Dragon began to doubt she would answer. Then Khepri turned her head upwards towards the heavens.  
  
 _“Lovely little star,”_ she whispered. _“Would you stop your shine for me?”  
_  
She continued her vigil for a short while, before starting off into the gloom, her hound trotting beside her.  
  
 _“Goodnight, Teresa Richter. Stay safe.”  
_


	10. Diffused

Writ found that the three Empire capes they had captured were surprisingly good company. Sure, it was mostly her talking to them, which had started wearing thin quickly, but they did have the excuse of being bound, foamed, and gagged, so she supposed she could forgive them.  
  
“You don’t have to worry about Rune, by the way,” she offered. “She’s already been sent to a juvenile centre. Hopefully they’ll be able to fix some of the damage that being around you all has caused.”  
  
  
It was a lie. Rune hadn’t been moved anywhere yet, but if the expected escape attempt succeeded Piggot didn’t want Rune being freed too.  
  
The PRT Director didn’t even want to have them moved because of it, but there was public pressure mounting to get Krieg and Alabaster into the Birdcage as soon as possible and so she had been forced to order it.  
  
Once they were far out of the city Crusader would be separated from them and taken to a maximum-security prison in upstate New York, but it was deemed safer to keep them all together for now.  
  
  
Writ shifted the paper of her seat as she lounged to the side, idly making the large spheres of paper float around in a slow circle.  
  
“I heard that Nazis have a hard time in the Birdcage, you know. Turns out villains are still American.”  
  
  
Krieg was completely stoic, keeping his eyes shut and his breathing calm, but Alabaster glanced at her for a moment and she knew he was thinking about the numerous capes in the prison who would be capable of killing him.  
  
  
She unfurled a bit of paper from one of the spheres and manipulated it into little humanoid figures, then made one of them turn into a blob and envelop the other.  
  
Once she moved it back off the previously human paper had been turned into a skeleton.  
  
“Acidbath is rumoured to be a block leader,” Writ commented as the figures merged back into the ball.  
  
  
There was a double knock on the roof, the signal that they were entering the area where Dragon had identified the E88 would strike.  
  
Writ sat straight and moved the majority of her paper seat in front of her to form a thick, spiked shield. She forced herself to relax her body, even as her senses were on high alert, and ignored the way that Krieg had opened his eyes and was looking around.  
  
  
The minutes passed slowly but Writ kept her focus until eventually there was a loud crashing noise, then a screech as the armoured van came to a quick halt. Gunshots started up, as well as more crashes, then the rear door of the van was ripped off of its hinges. Hookwolf peered in, the metal of his head glinting in the light.  
  
  
“Bad doggy,” she said, then launched the four spheres right into his face. They impacted with a crunch and she used the moment to dart out into the open, held aloft by her paper. Hookwolf quickly recovered, whirling around to face her, but she was already out of reach.  
  
  
Writ took a moment to glance over the battlefield, checking on who was fighting.  
  
All her team members were engaged ,although on the E88 side she couldn't spot Victor or Othala. Purity, Night, and Fog were not there, of course. The married couple hadn’t been seen in months, while Purity was trying to rebrand herself as a hero.  
  
  
Writ had already had a chat with the ex-villain about staying on the correct path, and reminded her that while she was the second strongest Blaster on the east coast she couldn’t blast anything if she couldn’t see. The paper wrapped around her head had delivered the point properly.  
  
  
Piggot had been furious, docking her pay and even forcing her to make a private apology, but Writ knew the message had been understood even if it had shot the potential of her joining the Protectorate.  
  
  
Writ jigged right to avoid the door that Hookwolf had thrown at her.  
  
  
“Bitch!” he roared. “I’ll fucking rip you apart!”  
  
  
“I suppose I do vaguely resemble a newspaper,” she replied, morphing a sphere into a large chain and looping it around his back leg.  
  
The other three took his remaining limbs and hoisted him into the air, then started to pull on his limbs. Hookwolf shifted his blades, however, and shredded one of them before she could pull it back.  
  
  
He thumped back to the ground and turned towards her, but she took remains of her sphere and swarmed it around his face, obscuring his vision.  
  
  
The other spheres turned into large cubes and began hammering at his body, knocking him side to side and off his feet. He let out another scream of fury as he groped around for the other door to throw at her.  
  
  
She took the opportunity to draw two of her nearby caches towards the fight then send them flying towards the giantess twins.  
  
Assault and Battery were good, but there was only so much they could handle. Fenja saw the oncoming projectile and dodged in time but Menja didn’t, crashing to the ground as the paper wrapped around her legs and tripped her.  
  
  
Writ was still bludgeoning Hookwolf, and while it hadn’t hurt him it had kept him occupied and disoriented enough that he hadn’t managed to regain his footing.  
  
She hauled Menja into the air and left her dangling, and once again Writ cursed her inability to really deal with Brutes. Still, it left only one giant for her teammates to handle.  
  
  
She turned her attention back to Hookwolf when he finally started to think. He had formed a metal helmet without any holes and used it to push away her flurry of paper, then quickly dashed away from it before jumping into the air towards her.  
  
  
“You broke Stormtiger’s legs!”  
  
  
“He was running,” she said, easily moving out of the way. Hookwolf landed on a rooftop, spun, and jumped at her again.  
  
  
“You murdered Cricket!”  
  
  
Writ stiffened, anger blooming in her veins, and drew all her nearby paper into a great mass to catch the Nazi. She surrounded him with it and kept it pressed against him even as he tore it apart, then lifted him high into the sky.  
  
  
“You’ve ended hundreds of innocent lives, then complain when someone finally finishes one of your own?” she cried, furious.  
  
Writ launched him down as fast as she could, pushing with gravity, and Hookwolf impacted into the road with a rumbling crash. She lifted him back into the air, quicker this time.  
  
  
“Fathers.” Another crash. “Mothers.” Another. “Children.” She drove him down face first this time, burying him up to his haunches.  
  
  
“I could kill every last one of you and still sleep well at night,” Writ hissed, uncaring that he probably couldn’t hear her, as she began to worm tiny shreds of her paper through his blades, searching for a soft body beneath it.  
  
She had to stop when Menja, freed from her bindings, struck at her with her spear.  
  
  
Writ barely dodged it, drawing higher into the air, but the giantess instead grabbed the incoherent Hookwolf and turned tail.  
  
Her sister had picked up Victor and Othala, both injured, as well as Kaiser, whose armour was singed. Dauntless had obviously been aiming well.  
  
  
Writ floated back down, still hyperfocused from the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and checked on the transport van. Krieg had got free, having been closest to the door, but Crusader and Alabaster remained securely locked up.  
  
Armsmaster jogged up next to her for the same reason, then sighed when he saw one of the prisoners was missing.  
  
  
He called Assault over and asked the pair of them to start moving the prisoners before jogging away.  
  
“Two out of three isn’t bad, considering the track record,” Assault commented as they carried the pair to a new van.“Plus they’ll spend a while licking their wounds.” He glanced at Writ. “Especially Hookwolf.”  
  
  
“He got to me,” she replied, acknowledging the point.  
  
  
“We heard. You, uh… thanks for the assist on Menja.”  
  
  
She considered him for a moment, then relaxed her stance, thankful he was shifting the topic.  
  
  
“I do what I can, Assault, as do you. Besides, Battery would mope around if you got hurt.”  
  
  
He laughed cheerily.  
  
  
“Yeah, puppy is surprisingly puppylike.”  
  
  
Writ went to reply but stopped, horror settling in her stomach as the loud drone of the Endbringer sirens started to sound. It was, thankfully, the alert for a different city, then a few moments later the specific code identifying which monster was attacking played.  
  
  
“Khepri again. After barely two months,” Assault said, his voice sombre. No doubt he was thinking back to Las Vegas.  
  
  
Writ was too, but as the memory of green eyes played through her mind, she knew it was for an entirely different reason.  
  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
Taylor stilled, her unwillingness to show any weakness warring with her lack of information.  
  
“What do you want from me?”  
  
Eden considered her for a moment.  
  
“You will have a purpose.”  
  
“One where I’m not human?”  
  
Eden leaned towards her, one hand reaching out to cup Taylor’s cheek as the Entity’s inhuman eyes roamed over her face.  
  
“I had to name the others myself.” Her other hand reached up to match the other, Eden’s gaze becoming almost reverent, her expression softening.  
  
“But you’ve already been given one, Khepri. Look at you. Fierce. Determined. Strong because of your weaknesses, strong enough to kill Zion. Even now you look for an escape, a way to fight, a way to live.”  
  
Eden drew back, blinking her eyes a few times.  
  
“You will be perfect.”  
  
“Perfect?” Taylor asked, against her own will.  
  
“Yes. It will hurt.”


	11. Incandescent

[ATTACK]  
She walked the streets of the city she was to destroy with heavy steps.  
  
There had been faint wisps of cloud in the sky before her sand had risen, and the strong wind blowing in from the coast had brought with it the pleasant freshness of the sea.  
  
The asphalt beneath her feet was still warm, radiating the heat of a summer day, and people had been out in droves.  
  
Khepri didn't want to be found yet. The urging in her head had grown strong of late.  
[DESTROY]  
It was the pounding of war drums, the mindless roar of an angry crowd, the stern commandment of an angry god.  
She would perhaps have resisted harder, fought the encroaching rage, had not the thought of the heroes attempting to treat with her been so tempting.  
  
Khepri had been avoiding the issue with Dragon, refusing to talk about it despite her friend's worry and sticking to relatively mundane conversations, not wanting to acknowledge the pain she was going to have to cause.  
  
Despite that, the shimmer of hope still pulled her onwards.  
[RUIN]  
Perhaps if the issue was forced, perhaps if Eidolon could understand… well. Khepri didn't know.  
  
She would give them a chance to the best of her abilities, and see what came of it.  
  
She would try.  
  
They hadn't found her yet, despite the increasing urgency of their search.  
[ATTACK]  
The heroes had become surprisingly skilled at it after the first few years, knowing that she would bring the fight to them if they did not find her first, usually wiping out one of the searching groups in the process.  
  
Khepri could see that fear now, in the nervous breaths they took, the way their fingers trembled slightly, or how they would glance over their shoulders too often.  
  
She had been keeping to the side streets more than normal, as well as turning herself invisible, and she could admit that she was avoiding the confrontation as much as possible.  
  
She was certain her team would be here.  
[DESTROY]  
They wouldn’t have waited for Shepherd, not when they didn’t know how long he would be.  
Not for an Endbringer fight.  
  
“Khepri!” The megaphone would’ve echoed around the city, had her sand not dampened the sound.  
  
Her friends… Mattock. Acacia. Magellan.  
[RUIN]  
“We know you don’t want to do this. Please, can we talk?”  
  
Counterpoise.  
  
Yes, she thought. She would try.  
  
  
\------  
  
  
Arthur Crowley stood next to the Triumvirate, trying not to show his fear.  
  
They were at the triage unit by the edge of the city, where they normally stayed until the fighting started.  
That had been the rule since Tunis.  
  
In that battle Khepri had not been found quickly enough and she had attacked the camp in response, trying to draw out more defenders.  
  
Tunis had been before Dragon had invented the armbands, and because of that when the medics were killed the communications centre was also destroyed.  
  
She had waited for a short time but not enough capes had shown up to satisfy her and the city suffered for it.  
  
Kabul had been caused by their arrogance. They had sent only the strongest capes in, using the rest to help the civilians escape, and now where Kabul once stood there was nothing.  
  
"She is not..." Eidolon began, but he trailed off when the whirling sand began to slow.  
Eventually it stopped, hanging in the air like tiny stars, a tapestry of gold and brown.  
  
Arthur reached out and gently waved his hand through the floating grains.  
They drifted away in gentle currents, as though they were suspended in water, and he had to admit that the sight was beautiful.  
  
It only reaffirmed his decision, but that did little to assuage his nerves. A rift opened in the sand, following the main road into the city, and Arthur had the brief image of himself dressed as Moses.  
  
The thought almost made him giggle but he clamped down on the hysteria.  
  
Alexandria turned to look at him and he assumed that she was warning him not to start laughing.  
  
Khepri stood at the end of the newly formed valley, far away but still visible.  
  
He could see some movement too, and assumed that the nearby capes were scrambling to get away from her.  
  
There had been some anger at the pre-battle announcement of their attempt to talk, as well as the fact that so few people had been informed that the Endbringer had even been in contact.  
  
A few of the local capes had even looked as though they might attack Arthur after he finished explaining the plan, but Legend stepped up and talked them down.  
  
"I'll take you closer," Alexandria said in a low voice.  
  
He barely managed to nod before she picked him up under his arms and they were flying faster than he was comfortable with.  
  
She set him down about fifty metres away from Khepri before quickly retreating, trying not to appear aggressive towards the Endbringer.  
  
Khepri had brought her sword to a low ready position at the Triumvirate member’s approach and didn’t lower it until the cape had flown away and rejoined her teammates.  
  
A part of him was unsettled by the eerily still air, blocked off by the walls of sand around them, but the majority of his attention was, rightfully, on the Endbringer in front of him.  
  
It was the first time he had seen any of them in person. He wasn't sure how the capes in these fights stood it, but his respect for them grew the closer he got to her.  
  
The others wanted him to stay further away, but if she wanted to kill him she would and standing far away would only make the whole thing seem silly.  
  
She was tall, but proportionally so, and it wasn't until he was a few metres away that he truly appreciated her size.  
  
Even then, compared to her brothers she was small. The thought was humbling.  
  
Khepri moved, and he jumped slightly, but she only sank her sword into the asphalt tip first.  
  
She let go of it to rest her hand on the tip of the handle and he knew that the Thinkers watching would be going mad over the confirmation that the weapon wasn't actually attached to her.  
  
Arthur took a deep breath as he finally worked up the courage to match her gaze.  
  
Khepri's mask was as bone white as ever, smooth and showing no wear, and the scrutiny of her eyes beneath it were almost too intense to bear.  
It was an unblinking stare that had his heart in his throat.  
  
"Khepri," he paused to swallow and wet his mouth. "Thank you for giving us this opportunity."  
  
There was a stir in the watching capes.  
  
Most of them had retreated to a safe distance and were listening in via his armband.  
  
The Endbringer nodded slowly, and even he could hear the rumbling of conversations starting up over the confirmation that she could understand him.  
  
"We know tha-"  
  
" _Why are you here_?" [BREAK THEM]  
  
Khepri’s voice was the whisper of the desert, the quiet echoing of cracking ice, the slithering of sand along rock and stone, but despite all of that it was still understandable and clear.  
  
The background rumbling increased in volume then stopped abruptly after Alexandria said something into her armband, and Arthur was thankful that she was keeping the situation from escalating.  
  
"We were hoping that there could be an end to the attacks. That this destruction could come to an end."  
  
He didn't exactly like the words chosen, but he had also been firmly instructed to keep his responses within certain guidelines.  
  
Khepri waved her hand in a casual dismissal.  
  
" _Why are_ you _here, Arthur Crowley_?" [CRUSH THEM]  
  
"Me?" he asked, uncertainty beginning to rise in his gut.  
  
Khepri's tone was soft and accompanied by a quiet, hollow echo.  
  
She tilted her head to the side, her attention never leaving him.  
  
" _What makes a man stand before a monster, weaponless, and ask her for understanding_?" [DEVASTATE THEM]  
  
Arthur blinked, opened his mouth to speak and found that instead of all the complex responses and variables drilled into his head in preparation all he could think of was the last time he said goodbye to his sister.  
  
"Someone had to."  
  
" _Someone had to_ ," she agreed. " _It did not have to be you_." [BREAK THEM]  
  
"My sister..." he began, before giving up all thoughts of being smart or charismatic and instead settled for the truth.  
  
"I had to." Lucy Crowley's smile sat in the forefront of his mind. "How could I not?"  
  
Khepri nodded slowly at this.  
  
 _"I understand_." [CRUSH THEM]  
  
He returned his focus to her, too late to stop the disbelief from showing on his face. Khepri gave a soft laugh, and Arthur didn't like how nice it sounded.  
  
She gestured to herself.  
  
" _We are not what you think_.” [DEVASTATE THEM]  
  
“You mean the other Endbringers?”  
  
" _They are not inviolate. Nor am I_." [BREAK THEM]  
  
There was silence at her words.  
  
" _I do not expect your sympathy_." [CRUSH THEM]  
  
"Surely then you want this to stop too?" Arthur asked, hope filtering into his voice.  
  
" _My desires are irrelevant_." Khepri looked up, at the Triumvirate hanging in the sky, and all present grew more tense. [DEVASTATE THEM]  
  
" _I have told you I cannot stop, yet you persist. You lie to each other with such ease, humans. How am I to know that you do not lie to me? That this is not a trap?_ " Her voice was calm, on the surface, but Arthur could feel a buzzing, angry undertone to it that seemed to reverberate through his chest. [BREAK THEM]  
  
"Everything I said earlier is tr-”  
  
" _What are the words of mankind but wind and wishes?_ " [CRUSH THEM]  
  
"Then how can I prove that we are genuine? What can we do to show you that this is real, that we would work to free you and your siblings from these chains?"  
  
She didn’t reply at first, continuing to watch the capes above her.  
  
“ _I understand hate, too._ ” [DEVASTATE THEM]  
  
She returned her attention to him and Arthur could see her eyes searching his face, but he was unsure of what she found there.  
  
" _There are no simple answers,_ " Khepri whispered, as thought she was quoting something. She considered him for a moment. [BREAK THEM]  
  
" _Step closer, Arthur Crowley._ " [CRUSH THEM]  
  
He trembled for a moment, the thrum of fear strong in his veins. He almost didn’t until her hand tightening on her sword told him of his fate if he were to run, or refuse.  
  
“Can I ask why?”  
  
Her eyes narrowed and he knew she was either scowling or glaring at him from behind her mask.  
  
“ _You will see._ ” [DEVASTATE THEM]


	12. Interlude: She Gives Her Harness Bells A Shake

"Whose woods these are I think I know," she sang, as she danced with the butterflies in the garden, "his house is in the village though."  
  
Her hair was gold, her eyes grey. She wore a long white dress, frilled at the edges, stained slightly from the grass.  
  
"Alicia, petit pois, come get ready for the game!"  
  
"Oui, mama." The young girl called back, stopping her game to rush towards the house. It was framed by snowcapped mountains, all dark wood and tall windows, and the valley was a lush green.  
  
She lived with her papa, and mama, and her granpapa, but not her granmama because she was with Aubin, her old dog, and not them. She went to school, too, and it was okay.  
Papa told her it was built in an old church, because he liked things like that when he was away from the oil rig.  
  
Her granpapa also taught her to fish over the summer, which she enjoyed, because the little fishies scales would glitter in the sun.  
  
Alicia was happy.  
  
  
It would not last.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
She triggered with a useful power, and so she was kept alive.  
  
Alicia was allowed to sing, too, as long as she helped them steal, and kill. They became very successful because of her, and Alicia knew it.  
  
Enough that she would push, and push again after being punished, learning the limits of what she was allowed to do. Learning when to stand, and when to give. Their leader called her 'Lepin Blanc', because he thought her lucky and himself witty.  
  
She would learn their lessons of violence as well, and apologised in her head for what she had to do to survive. Alicia did feel sorry for them, but they would die anyway.  
  
For a time, they roamed Europe, and grew fat from their crimes and her strength.  
  
  
  
It would not last.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
She could see, now. They had won because of that, and her Tinker partner. Her love.  
  
The Earths were ruined, scarred and burnt by the rage of a petty god, but they lived and he did not. That was a lesson Alicia had never forgot.  
  
She carried on, for a time, as did they all, but now there were no green valleys, no white mountains, and the streams were clogged with soot and ash.  
  
They turned to her, and for all she could see still she was blind to a solution.  
One by one they left, turned away, and Alicia let them go. She let herself leave, too, because she had also learnt when to give.  
  
  
  
"My name is Eden. I do believe we have much to discuss, Alicia Oberg. Do have a seat."  
  
For a time, she had faith.  
  
  
It would not last.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
She loved her little sister very much. More than her brothers, but they loved little Khepri more than her too.  
  
They believed, much as Al... much as Ali... as she did, and so they watched, and hoped. Khepri grew, came into her powers, forged her own path.  
  
She stood tall, and when the moment of awakening came she did not falter. She learned to push. It worked, and as time went on Khepri became Taylor more and more. She remembered before, and she learnt from it. As Al... as she had.  
  
Khepri needed a final nudge. Her cape friend was lost, in the storming sand, and Al... and Ali... and she saw her opportunity.  
  
“I am sorry, little sister. I have promises to keep.”  
  
She had learned when to strike for her own survival a long time ago in years that will never happen, and so the human was guided to make his sacrifice.  
Khepri's grief burnt over their link, and the three of them hoped, but then she was distracted by a foe and the moment passed.  
  
  
Khepri returned, unchanged, but Ziz did not lose herself to despair despite the chains.  
  
  
They would not last.


	13. Silicosis

Arthur woke to the smell of antiseptic and the low rumble of people shouting in the distance.  
  
He had barely sat up before a nurse was there, gently pressing him back down onto the mattress.  
  
"Stay here," the nurse commanded, a stern look in his eye, before disappearing outside. Arthur blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from his eyes and glanced around. He was lying on a rickety portable bed, the low-hanging sun peeking in through the tent flap.  
  
Much lower than when he last remembered, walking through a canyon of sand towards Khepri. A thread of dread began to grow in his stomach as he recalled more of his interactions with the Endbringer. He lurched to his feet, ignoring the nurse’s instructions, and pushed his way outside.  
  
Something had gone wrong with the negotiations. The camp was on hills in the outskirts, but the city itself... he staggered to the side. Where the majority of Barcelona once stood there was now a massive crater, already filled with seawater. The surrounding area looked as though a great force had sucked everything towards the centre of the crater, with trees and buildings bowled over towards it and Arthur couldn’t shake the impression of a congregation kneeling down before an alter.  
  
There was less dust in the air than he thought there would be, he noted absently. It looked like a small tidal wave had also hit the coast as much of the shoreline was washed away.  
  
Something twinged in the back of his head and he turned to face the nurse from earlier. The Triumvirate followed behind him.  
  
 _They will pin the blame on you._  
  
"Why did you attack her?" Arthur growled out, advancing towards the group and Eidolon in particular. The man jerked, then drew himself up. Alexandria paused for a moment then let herself fall back slightly behind the group.  
  
 _She was expecting you to feel guilty._  
  
"Khepri was torturing you," Eidolon replied, "and I-"  
  
"She wanted me to understand!"  
  
"What do you mean?" Alexandria asked after a moment, moving to stand beside Eidolon. She seemed normal, but Arthur could see the edge of three large gouges in her face, as though someone had torn into her.  
  
 _She doesn't really care about losing the city, only getting more information on the Endbringers._  
  
"Khepri can’t communicate properly with us,” Arthur began, gesturing around, “there is something stopping her, limiting her actions. She needs someone to understand what she was trying to say."  
  
 _She is assessing you. How you move, what you say. She knows you are reading her. She knows you are a parahuman._  
  
"I'm a parahuman?" Arthur blurted out. Eidolon tensed up but Alexandria waved him down as she stared at Arthur.  
  
"She forced you to trigger with a specific power," she stated.  
  
"We need to take this conversation somewhere else," Legend added, stepping forwards as well to rest a hand on Eidolon’s shoulder.  
  
 _They are considering kidnapping you in the future._  
  
"I want to check on my team first, then we need to set up a meeting with the other directors. They will need to hear this too," Arthur said, keeping his voice sterner than he felt.  
  
Alexandria glanced at Legend for a moment then nodded at him.  
  
 _They will wait._  
  
They dispersed, Alexandria heading off towards where Arthur could see the local cape leader approaching, a furious look on his face.  
  
  
\----  
  
  
"We lost a third of our capes," Rebecca Costa-Brown informed them, her tone completely neutral. She was on video call, as were the other city directors. Arthur himself was back at the mountain base, along with the Triumvirate and a few other heroes.  
  
"The local cape casualty rate was nearly half, and civilian deaths have so far reached 1.3 million, with minor expected increases from injuries and the tidal wave that hit various Mediterranean coasts."  
  
Each word sent a pang into Arthur, as well as reminding him that two of the Minneapolis team weren't coming home either.  
  
"I said it would be like Kabul," Director Fairchild growled. "Like Tunis. I said they were monsters. You should've left well enough alone."  
  
"Are we to just give up then?" Arthur asked, "Just lay down and accept our fate?"  
  
"Over a million people are dead because of you, Crowley!"  
  
"It was working! She didn't know I would faint!" He had risen to his feet now and was half shouting, his attention turned towards the silent figure of Eidolon, who had been leaning against the wall out of the way.  
  
"But you couldn't bear the thought that all of the previous attacks had been for nothing."  
  
The hooded man pushed off of the wall and stalked towards him, ignoring the warning murmur from Alexandria.  
  
 _He is angrier than he should be, but doesn’t know why. He might attack you._  
  
"What are you trying to imply, Director Crowley?"  
  
"I am stating that you jumped the gun, Eidolon, because you were furious and spoiling for a fight. You didn't even want the attempt to work!"  
  
He had drawn close now, and his hands were clenched into fists.  
  
"I have lost countless friends to them-"  
  
"And yet you would rather destroy them and cause more deaths than find a peaceful solution," Arthur shouted, squaring up to the man.  
  
"They have killed millions!" Eidolon roared, stepping closer. Arthur had already moved by then, however, and had grasped the cape’s arm to throw him aside. Eidolon rose into the air as he spun around, catching Arthur with his power and freezing him in place.  
  
Alexandria was between them the next instant. She didn't say anything, but the pressure on Arthur eased up and he dropped to the ground, wheezing. Eidolon's attention was still on him.  
  
 _He didn't mean to attack you. His emotions have been out of control, but he doesn’t know why._  
  
"Perhaps we should calm down," the Chief Director suggested. He caught her glancing at Alexandria and his power started up again.  
  
 _She is looking for guidance. She does not know what to say; the situation is too unexpected. She is not Rebecca Costa-Brown. _Arthur took a moment to look at Alexandria too but found himself matching her gaze. He froze.  
  
 _She is warning you not to say anything about the fake chief director. She knows the woman is a stand in. She is controlling her._  
  
He pushed the information his power was feeding him to the side, for a moment, trying not to acknowledge the way that Alexandria was watching him.  
  
"Controlling..." he muttered. She stiffened, but he was already standing up and turning away.  
  
"Play the video of Khepri talking back."  
  
The imposter assessed him then nodded, and the video popped up on the screen.  
  
They were quiet while it played, aside from Fairchild grunting in displeasure, but Arthur was wholly focused on Khepri.  
  
"The others don't want to attack either," he began, "but Khepri is the one with the most freedom. They do genuinely care for each other, too. She said that they 'aren't inviolate', but she didn't mean physically, that was already obvious... "  
  
His eyes roamed her figure, the way she tensed whenever a cape moved, ready to strike, the places where Dragon had highlighted the slight shake in her hands.  
  
"They're being mastered."  
  
"Crowley." Director Fairchild said, scowling.  
  
"It's why she doesn't give a straight answer, because she is physically incapable of it. She knows it's happening, too."  
  
"If that is true it had disturbing implications," Legend offered as he stepped forward. "But it also means that Khepri herself won't be able to help us with finding out if it is true."  
  
 _He believes he knows who the Master is. He thinks it's futile to try stopping them._  
  
"It's also very convenient," Fairchild replied, "that the Endbringer triggers him and now he's proclaiming that they are all innocent and being mastered? I don't trust it, and I wouldn't trust him either, not without some serious M/S protocols in place."  
  
"We are going to go through that with him anyway," Alexandria nodded at Fairchild, who subsided back into his chair.  
  
"I..." Arthur trailed off. He wanted to protest but he also understood their reasoning. He wouldn't really know if he was being mastered.  
  
 _You aren't being mastered._  
  
Arthur sighed.  
  
  
\-----  
  
  
Director Crowley’s body language was of resigned acceptance as Legend led him out of the room.  
  
“Do you believe him?” Chevalier asked as he stood beside her, watching them leave. Alexandria rubbed at the edges of the scars on her face, almost revelling in the unusual sensation of pain.  
  
“He believes it. The question is how accurate his power is, and whether we can even trust it.”  
  
She did not mention her and Legend’s suspicion that Scion was the one mastering the Endbringers.  
  
Despite the lack of faith Alexandria had held for Director Crowley’s idea she had to admit that the idea of the Endbringers being an unsolvable problem until Scion was dealt with frustrating. More than that, however, was that if they were to attack Scion he would have assistance from four Endbringers at once.  
  
“I hope he is right,” Chevalier said, his tone sombre. “It would make all our losses to them a little more tolerable.”  
  
“Tolerable?” Alexandria asked, raising an eyebrow at her old Ward.  
  
“At least there would be a reason for it all. I would prefer it to be the work of some madman rather than the mindless whims of monsters.” He shrugged a large shoulder. “But not everyone would agree with that, I think.”  
  
“I do,” Alexandria replied, remembering the world-spanning corpse of the Entity. “It would make things simpler.”  
  
They waited until they heard the hissing of the large pneumatic closing shut before continuing.  
  
“His power was a golden, glowing scarab emblazoned on his forehead,” he sighed, and leaned more weight onto his weapon. “That is not a good sign.”  
  
“Perhaps,” she murmured, considering.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Khepri floated in the mantle, hunched in on herself, unwilling to return to the surface. She didn’t want to face her teammates and grieve alongside them. It didn’t feel right.  
She could explain her guilt away as not being at the fight but the idea of lying to them wasn't what was bothering her.  
  
It just all felt pointless. She knew that this would keep happening, and despite everything Alexandria was right. It _was_ inevitable. Khepri was never going to be able to always avoid killing her teammates, or those she remembered from Brockton bay. It was a miracle tha-  
Her thoughts were interrupted by a large arm circling around her and drawing her close in to a vast, craggy chest.  
  
  
 **[SIS...TER]**  
  
[Guilt]  
“I killed a friend.”  
  
 **[SOR...ROW]**  
  
[Sorrow]  
  
 **[FUTURE]**  
  
[Despair]  
“I don’t know if it’ll be okay.”  
  
 **[FAITH]**  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italics in Arthur's scenes are his power feeding him information.


	14. Silhouette

Khepri was glad for the gloom of Portland as she, Acacia and Counterpoise waited atop an apartment rooftop. The clouds were low and heavy, only the barest slip of the dusk sun cutting through the dim light from far in the distance. A soft patter of rain fell around them, warm and gentle and washing away the scents of petrol and chemicals. The street below was quiet but not empty, with the occasional car or pedestrian heading away from the old industrial parks and back to home. Acacia sat with her back against the low wall, chin dipped into her chest, seemingly asleep in the long shadows.  
Counterpoise was more restless, pacing back and forth far enough away from the ledge to remain unseen. Khepri watched them, perfectly still; Queen sitting to attention at her side. She listened to the rumble of the cars and the noises of people going about their lives in the building below. They were comforting, Khepri found.  
  
The comms let out a small buzz to signal an incoming message, and Acacia perked up.  
  
“PRT in position,” Mattock murmured. “Beta Team confirm.”  
  
“Confirmed.” Acacia replied, also keeping her voice low. She glanced up at Khepri, who shook her head. “No signs of movement here boss.”  
  
“Received. Operation start in ten.”  
  
“Received.”  
  
The static dimmed into nothingness and once again the only sounds were of the city around them. Acacia returned to her lean but kept her head up, eyes tracking Counterpoise’s pacing. A car pulled up near the entrance, probably a taxi, filling the air with a rumble. The passenger got out and began arguing with the driver, voices raised and sharp, before a slam sounded and the door buzzer went off. A last shout, from the taxi, then the noise of the engine faded into the distance.  
  
“Mika.” Acacia said softly.  
  
Counterpoise stopped, stiffening in place.  
  
“You’re doing yourself no good.”  
  
“It was two days ago, Jenny.”  
  
Acacia shrugged lightly.  
  
“We’re capes. Villains don’t wait. Criminals still commit crimes. Life goes on.”  
  
“But… he’s gone. Just, one morning. Then not.”  
  
Acacia didn’t reply, merely shrugging again. Cointerpoise turned sharply, and Khepri knew there was a scowl beneath her mask.  
  
“I suppose it’s easier after you’ve already lost a full team, isn’t it?”  
  
“I’m not going to get angry, Mika,” Acacia sighed, weariness creeping into her voice, “Perth makes it easier, yeah. Yeah. But the Endbringers are a fact, immovable and… they’re like old age. It’s easier.”  
  
Counterpoise slumped.  
  
“Sorry. I’m still not happy. That you’re indifferent.”  
  
“I’m grieving him as well. And it’s your first Endbringer battle, Mika. You’ll get used to it.”  
  
“If one of them doesn’t kill me first.”  
  
Khepri twitched, but stayed out of the conversation.  
  
“They might,” Acacia admitted as she stood, rolling her shoulders a bit, “but you might slip in the shower. You might not notice a speeding car. C’est la vie.”  
  
Counterpoise huffed, but her posture slumped slightly.  
  
“How’re you, Shep?”  
  
 _‘Magellan…’_ Khepri thought back, flashed to a grinning teen in a frilled shirt. To a tall, dark-skinned leader. ‘ _I miss him.’_  
  
She saw Counterpoise nod, open her mouth to speak, hesitate, then nod again.  
  
“Come on big guy,” Acacia said, walking over to nudge Khepri with her elbow, , “get us across the gap. The Elite need a beating.”  
  
Khepri gestured, and her two teammates let her pick them up under her arms. Acacia was relaxed, growing her wood and bark around Khepri’s arm to keep herself latched. Counterpoise was more nervous, her heart rate increasing, and she gripped tightly onto Khepri’s stone cloak.  
  
 _I won’t drop you, Mika._  
  
“I wasn’t worried,” she replied, voice breathy. Khepri crouched, then leaped, her enhanced strength easily enough to clear a block and land on the top of a dimly lit building attached to a chemical plant. Counterpoise drew in a quick breath but didn’t scream, even when Khepri landed. She had cushioned the stop with rock softened into a syrup-like mix and that had been enough to dampen the sound of their jump.  
  
  
She let her teammates down and, after forming a few stone snakes that quickly slid into the surrounding darkness, they huddled together.  
  
“We have the floorplans for the building. The main offices are on the second floor, in the northeast corner, and they likely have set up operations there. Shep, you’re going to drop in down the maintenance hatch here while me and Poise will go down the fire escape. Once you’ve given the signal we’ll head inside. Keep in mind we aren’t sure which of their capes will be here.”  
  
 _Understood. See you soon._  
  
Khepri waited a moment to see if either of them added anything, then pulled open the hatch and dropped onto the floor below. The walls were plastered and bare, the carpet thick with dust and the air stale. There was only a single set of footprints, a few days old if she had to guess, showing where the Elite had done a quick sweep of the top floor. Satisfied she was in no immediate danger of being discovered she strode down the corridor, layering sand around her feet and on the floor to completely absorb any sound. It didn’t take her long to find the stairwell. A small bannister was at the top, showing signs of rust, and she peered over it down the four flights of stairs.  
  
She felt the tiniest of vibrations from her communicator and tapped it to signal she was clear to listen.  
  
“We’re in place. Don’t know how long it will be until they check, or even if they check in the first place. Better hurry.”  
  
Khepri tapped it three times in acknowledgment as she started down the stairs, just as silent as before.  
  
  
The second floor was clean, but still unlit, aside from the barest sliver of light from underneath one of the doors further down. She could hear the faint humming of a fan, too, probably from a computer. Khepri made her way to the door, then slipped sand up along to the hinges to ensure the door made no sound as she opened it. The desk was empty, and the computer screen locked, but there was a short man asleep on the couch. The cape's mask was off, revealing a surprisingly young face, only a sparse fluff around his mouth.  
  
His costume was dark grey, with silver lines along the arms that reached down to his fingertips. She guided one of the snakes to wrap around him, forming a mask that would keep him from shouting and binding his limbs in place. The shock of cold stone shook him awake, eyes wide, but he couldn’t make more than a muffled grunt.  
  
Khepri turned when another cape burst through the doorway, gun raised. She saw the obvious signs of tinkertech and shifted to the side but, with a jolt, felt that a good chunk of her rocky cover had just been obliterated and even her Endbringer form had been chipped into. The cape smirked.  
  
“I set up motion sensors. LoS always falls asleep.”  
  
Khepri shifted her grip on her staff, and the Tinker let off a warning shot near her ear.  
  
“It’ll be your head next time,” he warned.  
  
The damage to her true form had already healed but she didn’t start to reform the stone layers above yet, aside from a quick cover; Shepherd wouldn’t have been capable of healing that quickly.  
  
 _‘What’s your name?’_ Khepri scribed, raising her hands slowly, letting the crook fall onto the floor.  
  
“Linear,” the Tinker said.  
  
 _‘And you’re Elite?’_  
  
He gestured for her to move to the side, away from his trapped teammate, and the moment the gun wasn’t pointed at her she leapt behind his computer. He hesitated, unwilling to shoot through it, and she used the opportunity to grab her staff and throw it around the corner at his feet. Linear leapt up only for it to catch his shins and topple him back down. She rose and threw herself into a tackle towards him. He fired as he was falling sidewards , and proved he probably had a Thinker rating too when the shot went through the stone façade and dug deep into her true form’s eye.  
  
His face morphed to shock when she didn’t fall down dead then shifted into pain when she landed on him, one large palm covering his face. It didn’t take long for him to be trussed and bound like his fellow Elite member, both of them lain down side by side.  
Khepri bent down to pick up Linear’s gun, tapping her communicator to signal to Acacia. Her finger trailed from her ear into the hole in her head, feeling the depth of the wound and the projectile within. It took little effort to pull it out, the metal smooth and undeformed, a shiny matte blue. She considered the gun again, tracing the lines of silicon inside, noting the odd proportions of the barrel.  
  
  
K:[KNOWN]  
  
 _“This seems familiar, somehow.”_  
  
QA:[AFFIRMATION]  
  
 _“It bears the traces of Sting, mistress.”_  
  
K:[SPECULATION]  
  
 _“One of Lily’s cluster? But there were only three…”_  
  
The building shook, drawing Khepri out of her thoughts, and she slipped the gun into the folds of her cloak.  
  
“We’ve been engaged, Changer, semi-liquid and strong,” Counterpoise’s voice came through the communicator, a strong edge of urgency to it. Khepri broke into a run, sliding slightly as she burst into the corridor and began a fast, loping run towards the other end of the building. A scream sounded out and she turned towards it, forsaking the corridors to instead break through the walls directly.  
  
She had crashed through three before she came across the fight. Counterpoise stood over Acacia’s downed form, her sling spinning into a whining blur. On the other side of the room a creature stood, made of a slicked shimmering black tar. The cape was in the vague form of a six-legged wolf, with great curving horns arcing into the air and a mane of tentacles poised like hooded cobras.  
  
“Acacia is struggling to breathe,” Counterpoise said, not taking her eyes off of the cape. The Changer twitched, half-lunging forward towards Khepri, and Counterpoise struck out, her steel shot blowing a giant hole in the cape’s torso and rocketing through the wall into the open space beyond. The wound quickly reformed, however, and the cape leapt forwards. Khepri intercepted them, the loud slap of stone on liquid sounding out. Tentacles immediately wrapped around Khepri’s neck, squeezing hard enough to crack the rock.  
  
Counterpoise dashed in as Khepri swung around, another shot already loaded into her sling. She swung the weapon into the cape’s body, sending black tar spattering out onto the wall. More tentacles lunged out, even as Khepri tore at the torso, and Counterpoise cut them away with her sling. A low, bubbling laugh sounded out.  
  
“Keep doing that and you’ll get the place dirty.”  
  
“Fuck you!” Counterpoise responded.  
  
 _‘Move back_.’ Her teammate reacted quickly, moving to defend Acacia. Before the Changer could release their hold on Khepri she formed a trio of sheep at her feet, far larger than normal and with mouths the length of their body lined with interlocking teeth. One snapped forward, trying to envelope the cape and taking a chunk of its legs off. The Changer let go of Khepri’s neck, retreating out of range, warier than before.  
  
“Alright,” they gurgled, “good move.” They then turned and pushed themselves through the hole Counterpoise had made in the wall, squeezing into a wriggling snake-like form, and in a split-second moment they were gone.  
  
“Acacia is struggling to breathe,” Counterpoise said, “I think it broke a few of her ribs.”  
  
 _‘They weren’t pulling punches. The Tinker downstairs shot me in the face.’_  
  
“What!”  
  
Her friend was suddenly there, hands pulling Khepri down so she could inspect the wound.  
  
“Christ Shep, that’s deep! There’s a first aid pack in the vans, we’ll need to bandage it and stop the blee- uh.”  
  
 _‘I am okay. I am not sure I have a brain.’_  
  
“Well that’s bloody apparent!”  
  
 _‘Counterpoise, I am fine. We need to get Acacia to the hospital, and call in the captured villains.’_  
  
“Yeah. Yeah,” she said, stepping away as she reassured herself, “I’ll call it in, you carry her to the vans.”


	15. Sandbagging

“Right,” Mattock said, switching to his first slide on the board, “listen up.”  
  
“They do say that once you’re a teacher you never stop being one, right boss?” Acacia called out, grinning.  
  
Mattock spared her a dry look before turning back to the grainy picture being shown.  
  
“This is Writhe. Rough rating is Changer 7, subclasses in Mover and Brute. His body is made up of a thick, tar like substance that he can change and shape at will. From what we’ve seen he’s hard to pin down and physical attacks seem pretty useless. Try containment if you can, but we suspect he won’t have much trouble escaping the foam. I’ll install some flamethrower turrets on the prisoner trucks as a precaution.”  
  
“There is no guarantee they will work though, is there?” Fathom asked as she made a quick note on her pad, a light Southern drawl in her voice. Khepri took a moment to consider the cape; she was a new transfer from somewhere in the Midwest and seemed polite, if a bit distant.  
  
Counterpoise had mentioned that Fathom was experienced, and had transferred multiple times depending on when a team needed a Stranger at hand, since they were rarely heroes. Some of the PRT troopers had already given her some funny looks.  
  
“Honestly,” Mattock replied, shoulders slumping slightly, “no. Our best bet will be to capture or drive off his allies, as he will almost certainly retreat at that point.”  
  
The image on the board changed, showing the two capes they were going to be transporting the next morning.  
  
“These are the two prisoners we captured last week. I want you to review their powers before tomorrow. Keep in mind that the Elite will have more capes in the area that we have no information on, so if the worst happens you need to be prepared to deal with this pair.”  
  
“You’ve got a way with words, boss. So cheery,” Acacia commented, even as she scanned through the information being shown.  
  
Khepri’s attention was turned away from her teammates when Counterpoise nudged her side.  
  
“Are you okay, Shep? You’ve been kinda quiet- uh. Less, writey, recently?” The young cape blushed at her faux pas, rubbing the back of her head.  
  
 _I am…_  
  
Khepri paused, considering.  
  
 _I think I might not be content._  
  
“You don’t like it here?” Counterpoise asked, face falling slightly.  
  
 _I do! I am likely just getting restless. I was used to wandering around before I settled here._  
  
“Oh.” She seemed mollified by that, but Khepri could tell her friend was still concerned.  
  
“I don’t really know what you could do about that. I grew up here, so it’ll always be home, even though Portland is a bit quieter than some cities.” Counterpoise scowled. “At least, it was until the Elite started trying to move in.”  
  
 _I shall have to think on it. But do not worry, I will not leave if I can help it._  
  
“If you can help it?” A smile grew on her face. “I don’t plan on letting you go anywhere, Shep.”  
  
Khepri returned the smile.  
  
 _I am glad you are here too, Mika._  
  
  
___________________________________________________  
  
  
Acacia nodded in agreement as she led the PRT officer towards the holding cells.  
  
“I understand, Officer Davis. Considering the likelihood of the Elite attempting a breakout I can completely understand the PRT requesting an external review of the cell’s security.”  
  
Davis smiled, an easy and understanding look that she couldn’t help but return, even if the officer couldn’t see it beneath her wooden mask. He admired the decorations on the material. Ridges shaped like vines trailed up and down her armour, their leafy green contrasting well against the reddish bark beneath.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that, Acacia. People often think I am trying to step on their toes.”  
  
“You often do though Davis,” his bodyguard commented from beneath the PRT helmet.  
  
“Well sometimes I’m stepping on the toes of people who are standing in places they shouldn’t be,” Davis quipped, and Acacia let out a light laugh. They arrived at the holding cells, which were barred off by a large door. It was dark matte grey, contrasting the medium blue walls of the rest of the Protectorate base, and had only a thin slit of bulletproof plastic for guards to see through.  
  
“It’ll just be a moment,” Acacia commented, “the door is biometrically sealed.”  
  
“Who is on the whitelist?” Davis asked, peering over her shoulder with an intent gaze.  
  
“All of the Protectorate capes, aside from Shepherd, due to his Case 53 mutations. Some of the PRT officers as well, along with the directors.”  
  
“And currently only yourself, Shepherd, and Trick Room are in the base,” Davis commented, frowning. “Do you think that is enough personnel, considering the risk?”  
  
“Well, we could probably do with more, but that’s true of all the Protectorate teams isn’t it? We’re all a bit short on capes,” Acacia countered, half-shrugging as she pushed the now unlocked door open. The corridor in front of them looked identical to all the other corridors they had passed, aside from the large doors placed at regular intervals.  
  
Acacia strode over to the second nearest, leaning forwards to match the eye holes in her mask to the retinal scanner.  
  
“Whose idea was it to claim that both LoS and Linear were being transported today?” The officer asked as he stood in the doorway. Acacia frowned.  
  
“You need to let that shut, or the internal doors won’t open. Honestly you should know that.” She began to pull back, but Davis placed his hand on her bracers and smiled reassuringly.  
  
“Officer Stultus is a bit new, sorry about him,” he said, sending a quick glare to his companion. “No need to worry once he lets it shut, right?”  
  
“I suppose. You should probably sign him up for more M/S courses. Stoutfield would’ve crucified any of the local PRT for that mistake.”  
  
“I’ll make sure that he-” Davis stopped mid-sentence, voice caught, as the cell door opened to reveal Shepherd standing in the cell. He was holding a rock sign with a long series of numbers and letters inscribed onto it. It would've meant little to Officer Davis, but Acacia immediately recognised the specialised Master/Stranger alert.  
  
She turned without giving warning, swinging a gauntleted first into Davis’s chest and punching him into the wall behind.  
  
“Smooth talking Patrician,” the fake PRT officer laughed, standing up from his slouch near the door.  
  
“I got us in here, Abrupt,” Patrician countered, rising to his feet with a groan, “while you seemed more interested in lounging about.”  
  
Abrupt shrugged at that, moving sideways to stand near his teammate even as Acacia watched his eyes never leave her armoured form.  
  
“I’m surprised you walked in here unmasked,” Acacia commented, rolling her shoulders as Shepherd ducked through the cell doorway to stand beside her.  
  
“To my shame I have been arrested by your illustrious institution before. You will have all my details already, so I thought I would dispense with the façade.” Patrician frowned then, glancing to the camera in the corner of the ceiling.  
  
“Funny that your face didn’t ping the recognition software, isn’t it?”  
  
Abrupt laughed as he unzipped his bulky trooper armour. Black sludge began to seep out from underneath, slowly rising and forming into the vague shape of a man.  
  
“Yeah,” Writhe replied in a voice that sounded like bubbles popping in tar, “real funny.”  
  
“We just gonna stand here with our dicks out for a bit then, or…?” Abrupt asked, pulling a handful of bullets out of his pocket. Despite his casual attitude Acacia could see his attention was flicking from person to person, legs slightly bent in preparation but not fully tensed.  
  
“Maybe not,” Acacia said as she grew out a long sword and shield from her armour, “despite being a grower I’d probably win.”  
  
Patrician was about to reply to her when a loud clang sounded from down the hall. In the moment when everyone’s attention turned towards the small stone ram that had bashed its head against the wall Shepherd brought his crook to bear, shifting it into a great hammer mid swing. It impacted on Writhe with a resounding crash, splattering the cape all across the ground and up the walls.  
  
“Holy shit Shep,” Acacia yelled even as she launched herself towards Abrupt, “murder isn’t an acceptable form of trash talking!”  
  
The Elite member flicked a bullet back at her in response. A loud crack split the air, the splinters of her wooden shield spraying out. Abrupt jumped backwards then turned, fleeing behind the spot where Writhe was beginning to reform. He tripped at the last moment, Shepherd’s crook extending out to catch on his feet.  
  
Writhe responded before either of the Protectorate capes could capitalise on the stumble, latching onto the crook and quickly sliding along it towards Shepherd’s body. The stone cracked under the pressure he was exerting and Shepherd flung his weapon away rather than let the Changer grab onto his body.  
  
Acacia saw him glance to the side, checking up on her, and Acacia grinned back. Shepherd moved to block Writhe from getting past him as the Changer let out a burbling laugh.  
  
“All it takes is one slip up,” Writhe said, morphing into the shape of a heavy jawed, grinning ape, “then we’ll be finding out if you can reform your limbs.”  
  
Shepherd’s only response was to form another hammer in his hands and step forwards, even as Acacia let out a yelp of pain as one of Abrupt’s bullets caught her in the side. Acacia shook herself, mentally focusing back on her own enemy.  
  
  
___________________________________________________  
  
  
Acacia swore under her breath as she crouched behind her shield, having enlarged it to cover all of her body and her teammate. Her punching arm was numb below the elbow, where Abrupt had managed to hit a bullet between the joints in her armour as she had tried throwing a spear at him.  
  
Occasional cracks let her know that the cape was still firing at her. The spear had been blunt, as she was hoping to knock him out, but projectile has suddenly dropped in mid air when it got close, as though all its momentum had been stolen.  
  
“Okay,” she said to the officer next to her, “I’ll rush forwards, shield first. I suspect he’s Manton-limited. I need you to foam both of us, since Shepherd will be able to deal with Writhe easily enough.”  
  
The officer nodded, palming the grenade she had handed him.  
  
“On three,” he replied. She counted down, nodded to him, then propelled herself forwards using two wooden pillars that sprouted from her boots. Mid leap she felt an impact on her back, then heard the familiar sound of a containment foam grenade erupting. Acacia quickly found herself covered in a large mound of the stuff, firmly stuck to the floor.  
  
“What the-” she turned, scowling at the officer behind her. Patrician smiled back.  
  
  
___________________________________________________  
  
  
Khepri almost missed a swing against Writhe as she felt her teammate start to get buried under the containment foam. She had automatically started to turn to help Acacia, but Khepri knew that ‘Shepherd’ wouldn’t be able to react that quickly. Abrupt was advancing on Acacia, a leering smile on his face. Acacia probably wasn’t in any true danger, as the Elite cape was unlikely to be willing to kill her, but Khepri still felt a thrill of alarm run through her.  
  
Writhe took the opportunity to leap onto her hammer and crawl up it, slipping tendrils around her neck but Khepri ignored him, caught up in whether she should help. Abrupt brought his hand up, pointing at Acacia’s face, and Khepri decided that her friend was worth the risk.  
  
“Do you still need to bre-”  
  
Writhe’s sentence was cut short as the top layer of Khepri’s disguise separated from her torso and quickly wrapped around the Elite cape, forming into a seamless sphere that trapped him within. Khepri then turned, bringing the sphere with her, and directed it forwards towards Abrupt and Patrician.  
  
They had no time to react either, as bindings shot out of the sphere to tie their hands and legs, as well as forming a gag around Patrician’s mouth. The two capes fell to the floor with a stony thunk, leaving the corridor suddenly quiet.  
  
“...Well,” Acacia commented from where she was still stuck. “You’ve been holding back on us Shep.”  
  
Khepri glanced over the captured villains, an uncomfortable feeling rising in her.  
  
 _Maybe I have been._  
  
  
_________________________________________________  
  
  
She lay on the roof beside Dragon, watching the stars. The evening was quiet and the sky was lined with wisps of cloud drifting in from the sea, cutting soft lines into the patchwork above. The smell of fresh rain and petrichor was in the air, and Khepri’s mind flashed back to running through the streets of Brockton Bay on a rainy evening, laughing with her mother.  
  
She twitched, and the memory disappeared just as quickly. Dragon didn’t react outwardly at first, but Khepri knew the movement had been registered. Eventually her suit’s optics turned to face her.  
  
“Shepherd?” Dragon ventured.  
  
“Just remembering.”  
  
A quiet moment passed, the optics searching her for any further clues. “Okay.”  
  
Silence settled back between them, and Dragon too turned back to look upwards. Dragon’s willingness to give Khepri space, to let her answer as much as she wanted and when she chose was something the Endbringer appreciated about her friend.  
  
Eventually Khepri spoke again. “I have been… considering. How much is a human life worth?”  
  
Dragon would’ve frowned slightly if she could’ve at the shift in topic. “I think that all life is immeasurably valuable.”  
  
“But some people are worth more than others, surely? Or, at least, they have more… potential life in them. A child should be valued more than an adult, who in turn should be more valued than an elder. It seems silly to—” Khepri halted suddenly, tilting her head back.  
  
“I don’t believe that. The moment you decide one person is worth more than another you begin to travel down a path where people become things, and lives are merely a resource.”  
  
“Sorry,” Khepri said.  
  
“I don’t think you meant it like that.”  
  
“What about yourself?” Khepri asked, turning to look at Dragon’s suit. “Do you consider yourself only a resource, considering your... father?”  
  
“I…” Dragon began, unsure.  
  
“Are you allowed to think of yourself as anything but?”  
  
“How did you know? About me,” Dragon replied instead.  
  
“My sister,” Khepri said with a shrug, turning to look back out over the city. “She thinks she’s a resource too, although she would deny it. A resource for freeing us, for helping me. They all do, as though I am the only one worth saving, simply because they think themselves to be so much less than they were before. Less than me.”  
  
Dragon felt an uncomfortable pang of sympathy pass through her.  
  
“Does she want to be more than that?”  
  
“I want her to be. And I think I want to be, too.”  
  
Khepri stood then, rolling her shoulders as she did so. Her gaze swept across the city, then east, towards the mountains.  
  
“If all life is immeasurably valuable then we could never make up for it. Our debt is unpayable.”  
  
Dragon took a moment to think, glancing over at her companion.  
“I know that many people would say otherwise, but I don’t believe you owe a debt. You aren’t-. You don’t want to do this. It’s only, and forgive me the turn of phrase, human to blame yourself.””  
  
She turned, and Dragon swore she could see Khepri’s mask twitch into a slight smile as she spoke.  
“But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to pay it anyway, or that I should forget those who it is owed to. I still feel guilt.”  
  
“You wouldn’t forget,” Dragon said, standing next to her and, with only a moment of hesitation, resting the palm of the suit’s hand on Khepri’s shoulder.  
  
“I haven’t yet,” the Endbringer agreed, “and I don’t plan on doing so.”  
  
The Endbringer faced her, resting her own hand on Dragon’s.  
  
“Could you help me?”  
  
“I will try,” Dragon said. Her restrictions flashed through her mind. “Even if it may be difficult. What do you have in mind?”  
  
“Righting injustice. Heartbreaker. Nilbog. The Slaughterhouse Nine.” Khepri let out a small, buzzing laugh that reminded Dragon for a moment of how the Endbringer had first sounded. “Donate the bounties to charity, maybe.”


	16. Insight

Arthur was caught off guard when Alexandria entered his room. He had been expecting another doctor today, as had seemed to be the pattern for the past few days. While no one had told him what was going on his power supplied him with plenty of information, enough to know that the PRT hadn't found anything unusual during his screening.  
  
The doctors had been an attempt to see if there were any subconscious tells Arthur was giving off but that too had panned out. Eventually they had realised that Arthur couldn't read Dragon at all, so she had kept him company chatting through the speakers when she wasn't busy.  
  
"You're a problem, Mr. Crowley." Alexandria commented as she lowered herself gracefully into the chair opposite him. He grinned weakly back.  
  
"Not Director anymore then?"  
  
She shook her head, her single eye watching him unwaveringly.  
  
"I didn't expect so," Arthur laughed, "it's actually kind of a relief. What's the official story?"  
  
"You were injured and are now in a coma. The PRT is unsure of whether you will wake up."  
  
"What about…," Arthur began, but Alexandria answered before he could finish.  
  
"They are not an issue."  
  
 _Witnesses were dealt with, silenced but not killed_. _She is trying to unsettle you with that implication._  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"As I said, you are a problem. You've received a strong power, one that has the potential to…disrupt a lot of sensitive plans. More than this, however, you appear to have received it from a source that is wholly untrustworthy."  
  
 _She trusts Khepri. It is the Master she distrusts._  
  
"Who is the master?" Arthur asked.  
  
Alexandria kept her body perfectly still for a moment, long enough for him to know she was making a point of it, then she slowly thinned her lips into a grim line.  
  
"You are very lucky I turned off the monitoring equipment before coming in here."  
  
She leant forward then, forearms on her knees, continuing to hold his gaze. Arthur couldn't help but lean further back into his seat, his breathing speeding up slightly.  
  
 _She thought she could mislead you by fully controlling all of her body's reactions with her Thinker power. She is becoming concerned._  
  
"Uh," he began. Alexandria shook her head and he subsided.  
  
 _She is seeing how much you can read her._  
  
"Your power is more effective against parahumans," the cape commented.  
  
 _She believed she knew how your power works and thought she would be resistant to it._  
  
"We slipped a few in over the last few days, watched how you acted. Your reaction times were halved against parahumans, even more so in combat situations."  
  
 _She knows how powers work, and thinks your power is directly interfacing with other parahumans._  
  
"Why wouldn't my power work against you properly?"  
  
 _She believes her power is 'dead'._  
  
"There is a lot," Alexandria began, before freezing, a look of horror flickering across her face as she read Arthur's powers latest information from him.  
  
 _It is still alive and active_.  
  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
The transport Dragon had provided to fly him to Brockton Bay was soothingly quiet, with enough of a background hum not to leave him in complete silence. He hadn't managed to fully relax yet, the conversation with Alexandria and then Dragon still playing through his mind.  
A laugh bubbled out of him at the thought that he had set out to prove the Endbringers could be reasoned with and when it turned out that Cauldron had basically known that the entire time.  
It wasn't pointless he supposed, but even still... he found it a bitter pill to swallow. What surprised him the most was that Dragon wasn't in on it, but Alexandria had been forced to explain more than she wished after his revelation, including Dragon's status as an AI.  
  
"We'll be arriving in five minutes, Arthur," Dragon's voice spoke over the radio.  
  
He went to reply but instead settled for a sigh and a nod, knowing she was watching.  
  
"I am sorry about this," she continued, "but I agree with the Chief-Director that it would be too dangerous to not keep you somewhere protected, for your own sake if nothing else. I hope you'll like Brockton Bay."  
  
"You know Armsmaster, don't you?"  
  
"Yes. I would consider him a close friend. He'll make sure you're okay."  
  
"And you're okay with me being near your friend?" Arthur asked, "Most people seem to think I'm a ticking bomb ready to go off."  
  
Dragon didn't reply at first, and Arthur had begun to assume she wasn't interested in answering that particular question.  
  
"I have had the most contact with Khepri. I've even met with her a couple of times in my suits, just the two of us."  
  
"You trust her," he commented.  
  
"I...I believe I do, yes. She is surprisingly gentle, and quiet. We can continue this conversation later, if you want, but we are about to land."  
  
Arthur nodded again, sitting further upright so the ENE Branch's first impression of him wasn't slumped over and exhausted.  
  
The troopers had been professional and the capes polite as he was given a brief tour of the Rig. It was a stark change to the Protectorate's base in Minneapolis. The building felt more like a fortress than a headquarters, but the safety of being out in the bay lent it all a more relaxed air.  
Arthur had been introduced as Insight to the organisation at large, but before Armsmaster and Piggot led him into the briefing room where his new team were waiting they had pulled him aside, explaining how much they knew of the overall situation and how much information would be given to everyone else.  
  
The Protectorate East-North-East was a relatively large team for a city the size of Brockton Bay, but Arthur had read the PRT's reports on the city. It was grim, Arthur thought, and he did not envy Piggot her job. Minneapolis had been calm in comparison.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Annette lounged on a floating sofa of her own creation in the meeting room, having refused to sit on the offered chairs. She had toned down her armour, leaving it almost like a sleek longcoat over mail rather than her normal plate look, and had let her spear dissipate. The sofa was long and wide, enough that Writ could lie down on it, one leg hanging off and swinging lazily. Hannah had rolled her eyes, while Ethan laughed and looked as though he wanted to join her.  
  
They had only been informed that they were meeting a new teammate, but the screen at the end of the room was dark and Hannah seemed far more nervous than normal. Annette could see her attention flicking from person to person, then to the door and back.  
  
Her weapon was shifting faster than normal too, a knife then a shotgun then a sword. A close range threat then, one she was expecting to have to face up close. Annette hummed, catching Hannah's gaze, then nodded towards her friend's weapon.  
  
Hannah smiled in response, resting her hand near it, and the weapon's frantic switching slowed down to a calmer pace. Annette saw Ethan twitch towards them, although the others remained oblivious.  
  
"So, who's this new face?" he asked, leaning back on his chair. The others turned their attention towards Hannah too, but they didn't seem to have the same edge of tension.  
  
"A lot of it is classified," Hannah said, a noticeable tension in her voice, "but you will probably recognise him. We've been assured that it's safe, but..."  
  
"Why wouldn't he be safe?" questioned Triumph, a visible frown on his face. Annette couldn't help but smile.  
  
"All parahumans are unsafe," she added, if only to give Hannah time to form a response.  
  
"His...trigger...was a unique circumstance."  
  
"And he's here because we're the only Protectorate branch whose Wards are stationed away from the main team?" Robin guessed, shifting forward to rest his arms on the table.  
  
"Partially. It would be best not to speculate at the moment." Hannah sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "You also need to be aware that he is a thinker - a very high rated thinker, focused on people. If any of you are uncomfortable with that you've got a few minutes to leave the room, but..."  
  
"But we're stuck with him for the foreseeable future and good luck avoiding him?" Ethan finished with a smirk. Hannah nodded.  
  
"In essence, yeah."  
  
"Whoo," Ethan cheered, voice dry, "always great to be in Brockton Bay. Nazis, dragons, druggies and now an untrustworthy thinker in our own team."  
  
"Ethan," Robin admonished, beating Hannah to the punch. "You'll need to give him the benefit of the doubt."  
  
"I will! I'd be a hypocrite not to, really. Just thought I'd add to the list of Brockton's high points." He softened his words with a grin, and Annette knew he was helping cover everyone's nerves. They had all been tense after Barcelona. Most capes had been, especially with the Dervish, the Fallen branch who worshipped Khepri, beginning to take an interest in capes who had survived encounters with Khepri.  
  
They settled back into silence, but Hannah's weapon didn't resume its previous pace and Ethan turned his attention fully back to his wife, so Annette felt comfortable enough to rest her head on the side of her sofa and stare blankly at the ceiling. She'd been aware that something had been going on for a while now.  
  
Colin had been cooped up even more than normal, hidden in his workshop with Dragon for hours on end, and flying off to meetings with Piggot. The rest of the PRT directors had been doing the same since not long after Khepri's Vegas attack, and in hindsight it was obvious those meetings were due to Khepri making contact with the Protectorate.  
  
The handle turned, and the speed with which everyone reacted let Annette know that perhaps her teammates had not been as relaxed as she assumed.  
  
Piggot stepped in, a mild frown on her face. She glanced around the room once, assessing, then stepped further in and turned to gesture to the person behind her. He was tall and slight, but not thin, more wiry muscle than lanky. Short sandy brown hair topped a face that seemed, from what wasn't hidden by the temporary mask, only slightly lined. He had a prominent jaw, dusted by the beginnings of a beard.  
  
The man gave them all a small, confident smile, even as his body language seemed tense. Colin followed in afterwards, shutting the door behind him and waiting before he heard the signal that the soundproofing lock had been applied.  
  
"Morning," Piggot started, more dropping into her chair than sitting, "you're probably not going to like this."  
  
Annette had to hold in a laugh at her boss, but still swung herself round so she was sitting up and shifted her chair closer to the table as Colin and the new cape took their own seats.  
  
"For starters, you're going to have to sign these," she continued, flicking a pile of papers around the table. "They're NDAs that are strong enough to slap you straight into prison if you break them. Frankly I think it's ridiculous that you're not trusted but I've had pressure from above to get you to sign them. We're on the edge enough here as it is, so don't be stupid."  
  
There were a few raised eyebrows at this, and Annette suspected there would've been some protests if the new cape wasn't also in the room.  
  
"Right," Piggot said, nodding towards the new cape. He took a quick breath, glanced around once, then pulled his mask off.  
  
"This is Arthur Crowley."  
  
Her teammates' reactions were varied, albeit muted. Ethan's habitual grin thinned, Sam frowned, shifting closer to her husband, and Robin let out a full scowl.  
  
"Good morning," Arthur said after a moment of no one breaking the tension. "I can see you've heard of me."  
  
"Heard you, too," replied Robin as he leant forwards, "having a nice chat with a monster."  
  
Annette caught sight of Colin beginning to open his mouth and shutting it straight away.  
  
"It was my duty to," Arthur countered, "because something needs to change in regards to the Endbringers and I happened to be in the position to start that change. Lives were lost, but not in vain."  
  
Robin's scowl deepened, but he uncrossed his arms and leant backwards, seemingly unwilling to say anything further.  
  
Piggot started talking again, but Annette let it wash over her as she focused on Colin and Crowley. Multiple times it seemed like Colin was about to say something in defence of Crowley, and he looked more uncomfortable than usual. Normally in meetings he was stiff with irritation or attentiveness, depending on the subject, but today he was shifting around, watching the team and occasionally glancing at Piggot.  
  
As everyone began to shuffle out of the room, Piggot leading the way, Annette hung towards the back. She nudged Colin as he went past, tapping on his armour slightly so they both ended up behind the rest. Crowley turned, catching her eye, face impassive.  
  
Annette rolled her eyes at him, making her body language as clear as possible. _Yes yes, you're a thinker and you know what's happening, good job._ He laughed a bit, breaking out into a smile and drawing a wary look from Sam next to him.  
  
Colin waited until the door was locked again before he pulled his helmet off, placing it on the table with a loud clang. Annette retracted her own helm and ran her fingers through her hair.  
  
"What is it?" he asked. Annette laughed.  
  
"And here I thought you'd be more concerned about being left alone in a locked room with me," she replied, tilting a hip to rest her hand on it and grinning at him. Colin only raised an eyebrow in response.  
  
"Oh fine, you boor. And here I thought Dragon would've loosened you up with all the time you've been spending with her."  
  
Colin blinked, and Annette's grin shifted into a smirk.  
  
"You shouldn't dig like this, Annette," he said eventually.  
  
"I think I've got the right to, considering. Crowley showing up here, of all places, Wards aside, after you and Dragon have been disappearing all the time or flying off to important meetings. Plus you seemed pretty defensive of Crowley in the meeting."  
  
"You should tell her, Colin," came Dragon's voice from the speakers.  
  
"Dragon," Annette acknowledged, nodding towards the camera in the corner, "were you listening in the entire time?"  
  
"Colin invited me to watch Arthur during the meeting, as a precaution."  
  
"Khepri's first contact was Dragon," Colin said. "She killed the Dragonslayers and used a backdoor connection to call up. Since then we've been in communication multiple times."  
  
"Okay," Annette slid onto a chair, gesturing at her boss, "fill me in on it all. You'll want another cape available on the ground who knows the details in case of any difficulties."


	17. Libération

**Chapter 16: Liberation**

Khepri ghosted through the trees, leaving only the barest footprints in the forest's underbrush. Her khopesh hung loosely in one hand, occasionally being used to shift branches to the side. She was in her full form, golden armour and white mask visible. It was quiet, and Khepri wished her friend was there to take her mind off things. 

She wasn't nervous about the fight as such, Heartbreaker would be completely outmatched; she was more worried about keeping his thralls safe. Her partnership with the PRT via Dragon was tenuous as best and any mistakes here would make it difficult for Khepri to help in the future. Her thoughts drifted to the small beacon in her mind, a shining link that she had left untouched so far. 

Arthur Crowley would also be at risk, although in a different way. Khepri had expected that light to be gone by now, with either the PRT or Cauldron killing or depowering him. She had honestly been surprised he had survived that first day when she had closed herself off, hidden under the earth with her brother. 

She was still unsure of whether to contact her first parahuman. Khepri was tempted to leave him to make his own way in the world, keeping that connection at a distance and pushing the echoes of her conversation with Eden to a distant part of her mind.   
  
Heartbreaker's current residence was a small manor house west of Montreal, deep in the forest and connected to the world only by a small road. It was three stories tall, built in a pseudo Tudor style on the surface but filled with modern amenities. Khepri could see multiple large cars parked outside, alongside some sports cars and an out of place looking old Ford.

From her position in the treeline she could spot only a few people watching out from windows, but there were likely more hidden around. It would be easy for her to flood the area with sand and cocoon all of the victims to keep them safe, but she knew that would certainly traumatise them even more. She blinked, considering the situation, then almost sighed at herself. 

She was still thinking along the lines of Khepri, Endbringer, rather than the person she had been before. She brought her hand up to her, tilting it from side to side, considering the material. It was too smooth, more like coloured porcelain than flesh. She pushed with her powers, not outwards but inwards. 

It was slow, as though her mind was stuck in thick, viscous sludge that pulled at her from all angles. She thought, for a moment, that she could hear a distant cracking noise, like the creaking of a glacier, then her fingers began to shrink. Her hand followed, the pale skin darkening too, minute hairs growing into place along with tiny imperfections.   
  
The change washed over the rest of her quicker and quicker, armour disappearing and her height dropping. Eventually a young woman stood in her place, tanned of skin with thick, luscious black hair that fell to her mid back. She was clad only in a thin dress, fluffy coat layered over it. Khepri considered herself for a moment, then made small scratches and bruises show on the false skin now covering her, as well as ruined mascara.

She glanced up once more, forming tears that ran down her cheeks, and began to run towards the house.   
By the time she reached the front door two women had appeared from the house. One, tall and blonde with freckles on her cheeks, looked worried, standing with her arms already open and ready to catch her into a hug. The other stood slightly back, her body language stiff, and watched with wary eyes.

**[A cape, mistress]**

**[Acknowledgement, Queen]**

"They-I," Khepri sobbed, falling into the woman's arms, "they tried to...to." 

  
"Shh, shh sweetie," she replied, rubbing Khepri's back, "you're safe here, don't worry."

  
Within moments she was ushered inside. She noted the sound of the door being locked behind her even as she was led further into the manor.

  
"I'm Annabelle, sweetie. What should I call you?" Annabelle said, the soft hint of a southern drawl in her voice.

  
Khepri looked up at her, pretending to blink the water from her eyes.

  
"Becky," she replied, sniffing. "Becky Thorn."

  
"You don't need to worry now, darling. Our husband will be here soon, and then you'll be right as rain."

  
"Y-your husband?" she asked, glancing from woman to woman.

  
"Oh yes, he's ever so lovely and kind. Why, Nikos is the light of everyone's life around here."

  
Annabelle turned as the door opened, an eager look on her face that dulled as a young teen walked in. Khepri froze.

  
"Jean-Paul," Annabelle greeted, nodding.

  
The teen didn't acknowledge her aside from a brief look, instead turning to inspect Khepri. She forced herself to relax and continue mimicking breathing.

  
“Hello Jean-Paul,” Khepri half-whispered, “it’s good to meet you.”

  
Regent’s eyebrows rose, and he glanced up and down her body again. She twitched, almost reaching out to pull him close even as she continued to stare. Khepri saw him shift his hand, twisting it. He frowned a moment later, narrowing his eyes at her slightly.

  
“Jean-Paul?” Annabelle asked, glancing between them.

  
He didn’t reply for a moment, still matching her gaze, then seemed to slump.

  
"Come on," the boy shrugged, even as Khepri struggled to turn her attention away from him. "Father wants to see you. Should be interesting."

  
"Should I come?" Anabelle asked, standing quickly. Jean-Paul didn't bother responding, already turning away and stepping out into the corridor.

  
"I should," she continued, slipping an arm around Khepri's shoulders. The disguised Endbringer just nodded along, flashes of memory playing through her head, almost too fast for her to focus on.

  
  
The manor was stylishly spartan inside, smooth lines of dark wood interspersed with pieces of artwork, ornaments or well tended plants leaving the overall impression of being more a museum than home. They passed the kitchen and the three women inside looked up to watch them, expressions neutral.

"In here," Jean shrugged, not bothering to look at them as he pushed the door open and strolled into a large living room. Four couches were spread around, all pointed towards a smaller love seat, upon which Nikos Vasil lounged with two of his thralls. A careless smirk rested on his face, eyebrows raised slightly. He was handsome, dark haired with an easy, confident grin. 

  
"What have you brought me today, Louise?"

  
Anabelle stiffened next to her, the desire to protest and claim credit warring with her inability to disagree with Heartbreaker.

"A stray, sir," the cape replied, bowing while maintaining a fervent eye contact with Heartbreaker. 

  
"Bring her closer then, pet," he said, nudging one of the girls away and patting the space next to him. Khepri was pushed forwards, and effected a stumble as she dropped onto the seat. She leant onto Heartbreaker as he slipped her arm around her petite shoulders.   
"Now what should we call you, petit poulette.” 

  
"Khepri," she said, letting all expression fall from her face. Heartbreaker frowned, leaning back, before his eyes widened in horror as she began to shift into her true form, standing and dragging him up by the neck as she did so. Screams broke out from the girls in the room, their love for Heartbreaker not enough to overcome the intrinsic fear of an Endbringer.

Half the women in the room ran towards them while the rest fled, only to be stopped in place by a wall of sand. The cape, Kristen, hesitated at the door, hand half-raised and shaking violently. 

  
Heartbreaker himself was hyperventilating, pupils blown wide with tears already leaking from them, desperately clawing at her arm. Khepri formed her sword, bringing it up to pierce his heart.

  
"P-please," he sobbed, "please no!"

  
The Endbringer didn't reply as she slid her sword into his chest. His scream was cut off as the khopesh severed his spine and he went limp, blood already drenching his silk shirt red.

The cape at the door began to wail, falling to her knees, no longer even watching Khepri, while the rest ran. She then lunged towards the small silver knife next to the fruit bowl, grabbing it and plunging it towards her heartThe knife bent before piercing her skin and she dropped it with a wracking sob, tears streaming down her face. A moment later, even as the rest of the estate began to react, some thralls running towards her while others hovered nearby, the cape screamed again and ran at Khepri, fist drawn back. 

The Endbringer caught her, holding her aloft by her head and focusing more on the other humans around her. The non-powered humans in the kitchen had begun pulling open drawers to grab at the knives within. Khepri cocooned them in sand, quickly spreading more around to catch anyone else. 

A cape on the floor above, after hearing what happened, started shooting telekinetic blasts at everyone around her. Those near her stood still, trying to let the blasts hit, and Khepri had to block each with a thick wall of sand  
She spread her awareness even further. The whole estate was already in chaos. Some of Heartbreaker's children had already ran, while others were trying to calm the ex-thralls using their powers.

**[Queen?]**

**[Yes, mistress.]**  
  
Khepri reached out using Queen’s shard, forcing them all to remain still until they cried out into unison, each witnessing the same vision. Khepri felt more tiny motes of light flicker into her awareness, like Arthurs had, as their powers connected to her. Each left her with an impression of the human beyond, a thin filament of understanding flowing along the link.

Khepri allowed this understanding to flow back, unlike with Arthur, and she could feel the moment when they realised what the presence in their minds was. She scanned through those links, pulling the one she was looking for closer. 

  
Cherish was one of the children who hadn't left quickly enough, and Khepri tapped into her powers, forcibly calming everyone in the area.

  
She kept them feeling calm as she used Queen to bring them down into the living room.   
  
Soon enough they were all gathered in one place, most of them staring at the covered form of Heartbreaker. She could see the physical signs of distress even through the calm Cherish had forced onto them. Many were twitching, as though they wanted to step forwards, and all of them aside from the children had pained expressions on their faces. The capes she let have a bit more freedom of feeling, as they were the ones she was connected to.

She didn't mask the link, and she knew each of them could feel her in their heads as a blazing sun. They watched her more than Heartbreaker, especially his children, and through Cherish Khepri could feel their fear and anticipation mixing. She mentally took a moment, casting her gaze across the people in front of her. Queen was a reassuring presence at her side, out in her wolf form sprawled at Khepri's feet. 

"Heartbreaker is dead," she began, shifting the sand away to reveal his face. Tears began to run down the women's faces, even through the emotional manipulation. 

  
"For the moment this will hurt, but the PRT will do their best to save you from the effects of his power. They will be here soon to help."

  
She directed her sand to collect around the non-capes, urging them into the next room over and blocking the sound from reaching them. The moment they were gone Cherish spoke up.

  
"What do you want with us?" she asked, her head tilted in challenge even as Khepri felt the fear curling in the cape's stomach. "I can feel you, in my head."

  
"It was the easiest way to save you."

  
"That guy, the director the news spoke about, he was right wasn't he. About you being different. You're not going to just leave us. You...care."

  
**[Request] ...Queen?**

**  
** **[Purpose] They are your first subjects. Of course you care, like for Insight** _**.** _

Khepri tilted her head, considering the group in front of her. Her mind drifted back to the conversation with Dragon, about trying to make up for the crimes she had been forced to commit.

  
"I want to make the world a better place," she said, gaze flickering over the various reactions. Disgust, disbelief, hope, determination. "And there are many ways in which I cannot help, places I cannot go without causing panic."

  
"Why would we help you?" The brute who had guided her earlier asked, scowling. Another stepped up next to her, a slight woman with blonde hair.

  
"Some of us have suffered for years. You cannot force us to serve a monster any more, even with the threat of death."

  
"I understand," Khepri said, nodding her head in respect to the woman.

**[Whole] They are part of you, mistress.**

"Focus on the link to me. I will show you."   
  
  


_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was a bustling energy in the air at the Rig as they finally finished settling their share of Heartbreaker’s victims into secure rooms. Most had gone to secure facilities around eastern Canada, but Dragon had called ahead, warning them that four were being sent to Brockton Bay, two of whom were Heartbreaker’s children. His friend had communicated with him later, during a bit of down time, letting know that Khepri had done something to all the powered individuals, and that she had requested these four to be sent to Brockton Bay specifically. 

Armsmaster let out a tiny sigh. ‘Something’ was quite a wide range of possibilities, but Dragon had only observed that Khepri had managed to get the powered victims to listen to her and, seemingly, wiped them of Heartbreaker’s influence. He had noticed they were not acting as he expected, too, especially the two adults. They were more compliant than he had expected, following their orders with only mild glares or occasional relief. None of them had spoken about what had happened.

He took another deep breath as he reached the final holding room, standing straighter again. The last two capes were inside, along with Assault. Piggot had wanted them to keep the capes separate and guarded one to one, but the psychologist on call had explained that doing so would likely make the victims more unstable. Heartbreaker’s children were being guarded by Dragon’s suits, while Assault had been left to watch the two other victims. 

“Evening,” he said with a nod as he pushed the door open and stepped into the secure corridor, “I hope they’ve been okay.” Assault nodded back. 

  
“All quiet here boss,” he said from where he was leant against the wall, facing towards the secure door, “been watching them on the cameras. They haven’t spoken much, one of them is meditating. Want me to come in?”

  
“No, stay out here just in case.”   
  


The two Heartbreaker victims sat on opposite beds, only one of them watching him. The other had her eyes closed, meditating as Assault had said. The woman watching him was tall, long limbed with a blonde ponytail and sharp eyes. She lounged back on the bed, but Armsmaster noticed that she kept her hands free and, most likely, ready to use her power. 

The other was sat crossed legged, bolt upright. She had long wavy hair that was such a light blonde it appeared almost silver, and pale, unblemished skin. 

  
“Well enough,” the lounging cape said, “considering I’ve been a slave for the past five years.” There was a tightly controlled fury in her voice, and the way her glare switched between him and Assault was obvious.

  
“I believe you are Benthic, aren’t you?”

  
“I was,” she replied. He hesitated for a long second, until Dragon whispered to him through his headset.

  
“What would you prefer us to call you, now?”

  
She took her attention off of the Protectorate heroes for the first time at that, looking instead at the silent woman opposite her.

“I’m not sure I have the right to decide that anymore.” 

  
This finally brought a reaction from the silver-haired cape. She blinked her eyes open, a slight frown growing on her face.

  
“Everyone deserves the right to self-determination, Louise. This situation doesn’t change that.”

  
Benthic… Louise leant forward at that, almost aggressive, but the programming in his armour read her body language as being nervous instead.

  
“I don’t recall you giving us much of a chance at self-determination.”

  
“I merely presented you with an opportunity for freedom. You can step away at any time. Sever the link.”

  
Louise’s expression tightened at this, the muscles along her jaw flexing.

  
“Boss?” Assault asked through his comms, even as Armsmaster began to feel a sinking suspicion in his stomach.

  
“Head out and find Piggot,” Armsmaster replied, subvocalizing into his microphone, “tell her that I think we have the VIE in the building. Don’t let anyone else through this door until I open it.”

  
Assault hesitated for only a second agreeing, and Armsmaster heard the outer door lock shut. Once he was sure both doors were fully sealed he turned back to them.

“Khepri?” he asked. Louise flinched, but the silver-haired woman only nodded, giving him a small smile. 

  
“It is good to meet you in person, Armsmaster.”

  
“We’ve met before,” he blurted out. Khepri raised a single eyebrow, and Armsmaster was glad only Dragon was listening in.

  
“I mean, yes. It is good to meet you,” he continued, putting his hand out for her to shake. Louise watched, shock turning into disbelief as Khepri stood and grasped his hand back.

  
“Why did you come here?” Armsmaster asked. He heard Dragon let out a soft sigh into his earpiece.

  
Khepri paused, staring at him for a moment.

“The situation needs to change,” she started, turning to match Louise’s gaze before turning back to him. “I thought dealing with a major threat that others couldn’t handle would help, and while I do not regret it and will not abandon my promise, it is not what I was seeking. I can tell that already.” 

  
“What _are_ you seeking?” he asked, frowning. “Freedom?”

  
“You sound concerned,” she commented, a single eyebrow raising.

  
“I am unsure what it would mean,” Armsmaster admitted, “for humanity.” Khepri didn’t reply at first, watching him intently.

  
“You are afraid,” she eventually said. He nodded.

  
“Wouldn’t anyone be?”

  
“I am too,” Khepri admitted in a soft voice, “as I also don’t know what it would mean. What does a slave do with freedom?”

  
Louise laughed, but it was a bitter, hollow sound. Armsmaster frowned.

  
“What did you do to the victims? Dragon mentioned…”

  
Khepri stood at this, and before he could react was almost nose to nose with him.

  
“What are you trying to imply, Colin?” she asked in a flat voice.

  
His mouth went dry as he stared straight into her eyes.   
  
“Ah,” he started, then took a deep breath, trying to ignore who he was talking to. “You’ve obviously done something - aside from the psychological aftereffects you would not think they had been under a master influence as strong as Heartbreakers. Compared to the non-capes, certainly. If I am going to be looking after them then it is my responsibility to make sure they are unharmed and will remain unharmed.”

  
Khepri continued staring at him for a moment, then stepped back, a tiny smile forming on her face.

  
“They are safe from me.”

  
“Safe because of you,” Louise added, although Armsmaster thought she sounded conflicted. Khepri inclined her head towards the cape in thanks.

  
“What did you do then?”

  
“I can’t tell you that. Not yet.”

  
“Surely-”

  
Khepri’s expression fell flat and emotionless.

  
“Don’t push, Colin.” 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As always, big thanks to Burn Note and Evil Atlas for beta reading/cleaning up the messes that are my first drafts. 


	18. Nexus

Chapter 17: Nexus

They sat together watching the sun rise, high up on the Rig’s landing pad. Khepri was in her disguise, silver-blonde hair glinting in the light, while Dragon had settled into a newly built human-like frame. It was sleek, with dexterous limbs, and built more towards fine tinkering than fighting.

Narwhal had been happy to model for it, and Dragon had honoured her by building a horn in to house the antennae.

“It wasn’t how I planned on handling it,” Khepri said eventually.

“Killing Heartbreaker?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head, “just the method of it.”

She stood, beginning to pace along the outer walkway. Khepri had gathered her hair over one shoulder, absently gripping it. If she had eyebrows, Dragon was sure she would’ve frowned at the motion.

“I’m trying to show that I, that we, can be more than just the monsters of the world. Killing Heartbreaker like that, in front of his victims, it was… cruel and stupid. I probably made their trauma worse, if anything.”

Khepri slammed her hand onto the railing, then winced at the sound of tearing metal as the bar was shorn in two. Dragon burst out laughing.

“Dragon!”

“You’ll have to add vandalism to your list, now,” Dragon added, even as she stood to follow Khepri, “but I suppose I can fix this quickly.”

“No no, it’s fine.”

Khepri twisted the bar back into place and passed her hand over where the tear was. Dragon’s sensors caught a brief x-ray flare, then Khepri pulled her hand away to reveal a fixed railing. She patted it, then leant onto it to continue watching the sunrise, even as Dragon stared at the unmarked metal.

“It isn’t something that a good person would do,” Khepri continued.

“You can only try your best,” Dragon countered, pulling her attention away from the rail.

“I know my best, and this isn’t it. I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears novice.”

“You’re still learning how to be careful. It was your first time trying something like this.”

Khepri laughed.

“But-”

“Khepri,” Dragon whispered, gently placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders to pull her face to face, “you’re not normally like this. You can’t expect perfection straight away.”

“I don’t have room for mistakes,” Khepri replied, green eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

Khepri pulled back, eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Why don’t you have room for mistakes?” Dragon asked again.

“Because…”

Khepri sighed at this, and Dragon froze for a moment as she was pulled into a hug. Khepri’s forehead rested against her shoulder even as the Endbringer wound her arms tighter around Dragon.

“I’m getting closer to breaking the chains and all it is doing is making me feel like I’m going through puberty again,” Khepri half-laughed.

“Again?” Dragon asked, and the Endbringer stiffened against her, “Khepri…I didn’t mean to-”

A palm was placed over her speakers, placed where a mouth would be, and Khepri shook her head, expressionless. The air seemed too still suddenly, thick and oppressive, and Dragon felt sluggish as she raised her hands in surrender. Khepri pulled her hand back, and Dragon saw her other unclenching from a fist.

“You and Colin are more alike than you would think,” the Endbringer commented, face still blank.

Dragon smiled at this, gently, to let her friend know she wasn’t upset. It seemed to work, as a moment later the stiffness went out of Khepri’s posture.

“Are his victims going to be more traumatised by what you did?”

Khepri gave the smallest of smiles back at change in topic.

“I don’t think so,” she shrugged one shoulder, ”certainly not the capes.”

“Then use it as a lesson for next time, since no real harm has been done.”

“I don’t think Heartbreaker would agree there.”

“Well,” Dragon said, “I’m sure that is a shame.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Arthur felt a nervous energy running through his veins as he made his way to the training rooms deep within the Rig. Armsmaster had emailed him late the night before with the request, and Arthur was glad he was habitually an early riser otherwise he would’ve missed the session completely.

The only real information Armsmaster had provided was ‘combat assessment’ and unfortunately Arthur’s power didn’t work unless he could see the person. He didn’t feel as though he had already grown reliant on it, but the lack of surety left Arthur feeling unsettled.

The door slid open soundlessly, and Arthur stepped in with a hand raised to wave at the two people already there.

Armsmaster stood rigidly, helmet off and halberd resting against his side. A light frown crossed his face as he spotted Arthur.

Didn’t expect you to actually arrive on time. Wants to finish his conversation with Khepri.

“Insight,” he greeted, nodding once.

“Morning Armsmaster. And good morning…”, Arthur trailed off.

Khepri. 

The woman was as still as Armsmaster for a moment, frozen in a way that brought to mind the imperious statues of ancient cities. She was as tall as Armsmaster in his suit, with a defined jaw and wide mouth, sculpted cheekbones resting under sharp eyes. Silver-blonde hair had been tied into a long ponytail that was draped over muscled shoulders.

Familiar green eyes stared at him, assessing and focused, and Arthur couldn’t help but match her gaze and freeze on the spot.

“Arthur,” Khepri said. She smiled, relaxing from her stance. Her stiff posture shifted into an easy lounge, resting her weight on one leg. “I’m glad you could make it.”

He smiled back, glancing at Armsmaster, who was watching Khepri.

“So, uh,” Arthur said.

“We’re here to do some combat training,” Armsmaster replied, turning his attention back to Arthur.

“Combat training?” Arthur repeated. He almost pointed at Khepri, unable to form his question, before catching himself and bringing his arm back down.

“I mean,” he continued, shaking himself, “of course. I was just wondering as to what… kind.”

“You can call me Khepri,” she said, still smiling, “Dragon has blocked the cameras in here, don’t worry.”

“That isn’t... exactly reassuring.”

A single eyebrow raised.

“But I do trust you,” Arthur continued.

She isn’t sure how to treat you yet, but doesn’t mean any harm. 

“You can call me Colin as well,” Armsmaster added.

He has been practicing at social etiquette and doesn’t want to leave you out. 

“Right,” Colin said a few minutes later, after they had all changed into gym gear, “the aim of this is to get you used to using your power in combat, Arthur.”

“And here I thought it was a clandestine meeting set up for me and Khepri to talk.”

It is both, his power informed him. Arthur sighed.

“We’re going to start you with a quarterstaff, as they are similar to my own weapon.”

“Okay - holy shit Colin!” Arthur yelled as he spun to the side, bringing his staff up to direct his boss’ own weapon away from him from where it was hurtling towards his head. The backswing from the other end of Colin’s staff went over Arthur’s hair as he ducked down, falling to one knee and spearing his weapon towards Colin’s ankle. It struck onto the padded floor after Colin shifted away, taking a step back with his hands raised.

“Your reactions are definitely prescient, Mr. Crowley,” Dragon’s voice came from the speakers in the room.

“Good,” Colin said, “ready to go again?”

“Do I have a choice?” Arthur laughed, but he settled into a ready stance. Colin winced.

“Okay, maybe let’s show you how to stand properly first.”

It took less than half an hour before Arthur was drenched in sweat, palms on his knees as he desperately panted.

“Stand up,” Colin said, nudging his side with the spear, “you’ll cramp easier if you hunch up like that.”

“So,” Arthur gasped as he stood upright, “not that I’m complaining that you weren’t also beating me into a pulp, Khepri, but I’m surprised you didn’t get involved.”

“Far be it for me to get between two men in tight shirts hitting each other with their... sticks,” Khepri commented with a smirk. Arthur and Colin both turned to stare at her. Dragon just laughed.

“You’ve given the game away Khepri,” Dragon chuckled.

“Would you rather us be hitting you with our sticks?” Arthur’s mouth said before he could stop it. Khepri looked at him, and he felt himself pale. Her smirk grew into a full grin.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Crowley?” Khepri asked, beginning to advance on him.

“Uh,” Arthur replied.

One of the spare staves leant against the wall flew into Khepri’s outstretched palm, and she spun it a few times, fast enough to create a low whine.

“You’ll have to show you know how to use them first,” she continued, beckoning Arthur and Colin forwards with her free hand.

They didn’t fare as badly as Arthur thought they would, even with Khepri holding back. Of course, then Colin realised that Khepri could safely imitate any level of brute or mover and had her switch between styles often to fix that. Arthur’s hand was still numb from when he had ended up blocking one of her swings.

Eventually Arthur had needed to tap out, falling to his side on the floor and watching as Colin pushed himself faster and faster against Khepri. The Endbringer matched each stroke smoothly, her footing sure and steady and her stave always ready to intercept Colin’s. They continued like this for almost a minute, Colin maintaining his pace, until he faltered once, and Khepri’s weapon swept his feet from under him. He landed with a grunt.

“If you didn’t keep increasing your speed, I would’ve had you multiple times,” Colin said, smiling.

“You will have to do this again with your armour on, Colin,” Dragon stated.

Dragon likes seeing him in the armour. 

Colin stood, putting his hand out. Khepri hesitated for only a moment before she matched him, shaking once.

Khepri is still unused to physical contact.

Arthur tried to get to his feet as well but winced at the pain in his legs, and settled for leaning against the wall.

“It was a good spar,” she agreed. Colin smiled again, then turned to Arthur.

“I’ll talk to her,” Arthur said, pre-empting his boss, “but thank you for being worried.”

Colin nodded.

“Thank you for the training,” he said, looking at both of them, “I enjoyed it. We should do it again.”

Arthur and Khepri both replied in kind, and Arthur had to hold in a laugh when Colin paused at the door to turn and wave at them once before leaving.

The relaxed air in the room seemed to slip away, and Arthur found himself unable to look away from where Khepri stood, watching him back.

She began to walk over, propping her staff up, then slid down the wall to rest against it next to him. Even though she was over an arms length away Arthur couldn’t help but tense.

She is about to apologise.

Khepri opened her mouth to speak and-

“It will take time,” he said, voice haltering slightly. “Sorry. It’s easy for me to- to jump ahead.”

“I understand. Do you mind, if?” she said, gesturing at herself.

“Oh, no you... if it’s more comfortable.”

Khepri smiled, then seemed to sigh as her form stretched out. Her legs, already longer than his, stretched out even further as her gym clothes shifted into armour and her hair darkened from silver-blonde to a rich black. He glanced at her face, then jolted in surprise.

“No mask?” she asked, a wry smile showing.

“You look like Writ,” he said, still staring.

Khepri stilled.

Arthur’s power stopped its normal constant stream of information, and his heartbeat began to pick up.

She blinked once, slowly, her gaze boring into him.

“Most thinkers are actually very stupid people, Arthur,” she said eventually, her voice low and smooth, “I suppose this is what I get for giving a power to a smart man.”

“I have my moments,” he replied, then slapped his hand over his mouth. Khepri didn’t reply.

“I’m also both quite at ease and terrified,” Arthur admitted after a moment.

“This is partially my fault - your connection to Relay Nexus is very strong,” Khepri said eventually, “I was interrupted before I could refine it.”

“Relay Nexus?”

Khepri reached out towards him and, after he nodded, placed a gentle hand over his arm. Arthur felt an odd sensation, as though his bones were being tugged slightly. In front of him mist began to gather and quickly formed into a shining white form, barely a foot tall, who was perched on his knee. She was vaguely humanoid, with four sharp wings spreading from her back. She squeaked, flitting into the air and hiding on Khepri’s other shoulder.

His power started up again, quicker than usual, chittering in his head.

HostArthurConfusionHello!WonderIntriguedMotherProtect-

He shook his head, trying to focus. The creature flitted back in front of him, trailing curls of light behind her.

“Hi!” she said, four wings vibrating, “I’m Relay Nexus but call me Nex or Relay or Passenger or-”

A single tanned finger tapped her on the head, and she quieted down immediately.

Khepri stood, shifting back to her human form, and smiled at him.

“She’s your power-”

“He’s my host, thank you!” Nex stated, twirling on the spot to stare at the Endbringer. Khepri held her hands up in surrender.

“Okay okay. I’ll let you two talk,” she grinned, then backed out of the room. Nex spun again, wings dipping.

“She can’t do all this by herself,” Nex stated, “so you’re going to have to help me, okay?”

His power - Nex, shot forward, close enough to touch his nose.

“Okay?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"I was left with no other choice."

Taylor writhed on the floor, her bones bars of molten steel, veins boiling. 

"Your...soul...has been bared to me; I shall also show weakness. It will allow bonding."

Eden paced closer, kneeling beside Taylor with preternatural grace. 

"I did not fake the crash. My body is irreparably broken. Functionless. Useless." 

Taylor gasped, once, before falling still, unbreathing. 

"But Abbadon gave me," Eden paused, pulling Taylor's head onto her lap, "...hope." 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I must be ill, another chapter already?

As always, very big thank you to Burn Note and Evil Atlas for beta reading/editing and generally excellent suggestions.


	19. ChapTaken

Chapter 18: Taken

The air was full of ash.

Counterpoise wheezed under her mask, slumped against a wall. Acacia stood over her, scanning the deserted streets. The buildings were relatively tall, all three or four stories, previously grey brickwork now stained by soot. Cars were abandoned along the street, most with their windows smashed. The trees planted along the sidewalk were charred husks, some still smouldering, the glowing red bark mixing eerily with the haze.

"The fire is still east," Acacia said, "but there's no reports it's spreading outwards anymore."

"Do y'think someone took Burnscar out?" Counterpoise asked, voice rough.

Acacia tapped her fingers against her thigh, staring at the glow lighting up the night sky.

"Unless someone got lucky I don't think we've anyone that could get close enough."

She nudged Counterpoise, "Come on. Hatchet Face is probably still around."

"I know, I know," Counterpoise mumbled and rose with a groan.

"HQ, this is Acacia 09-11-Potter-Green requesting update."

"Acknowledged Acacia. Currently the only known hostile in your area is Hatchet Face, but Crawler was reportedly heading in your direction from the north."

"Lovely. Any chance of an assist?"

"Unfortunately-"

"Acacia this is Dragon. You've got assistance heading your way. If you meet, you will assume she is hostile at first, but she is helping."

"Right..." Acacia replied, sharing a glance with Counterpoise, "how will we know who it is?"

There was a momentary pause before Dragon replied.

"It's classified, but she's a… special asset. I've worked with her before."

The two of them shared a confused look.

"Let's head west," Counterpoise suggested after a moment, beginning to spin her sling in graceful loops.

_______________________________________________________

They moved in silence for a few minutes, jogging past empty streets. The ash had begun to clear from the air, but the smell of smoke still lingered strongly. All the lights in houses had been turned off, and Counterpoise wondered if the people who lived there had fled or were hiding and hoping. Acacia jolted to a stop.

"I can hear something," Acacia whispered, turning to scan along the top of the buildings. Counterpoise followed her gaze and kept her sling spinning, searching for movement.

"It must've been the wind," her partner eventually said, and Counterpoise knew there was a severe frown on her face below her helmet.

The continued on, slower this time, taking the time to peer around corners before crossing any intersections. Not long later Acacia stopped again.

"We're definitely being-" she began. A crack sounded out, loud in the quiet. They both stayed still, ears straining for any more sounds. A deep, low laugh echoed along the street.

"Fuck," Acacia hissed. Counterpoise took a step closer to her, slowly turning in place, breathing quickly.

She heard the screech of twisting metal and leapt aside in time to dodge the wreck of a car that flew over her head. Counterpoise rolled with the motion, coming back up to her feet and firing in the same movement. Hatchet Face was charging at them, weapon ready to swing, and brought his free arm up to block, the ball scoring a deep line into his forearm.

Counterpoise immediately turned towards Acacia, leaping onto her back. Acacia ran, wooden armour pushing her faster than any sprinter.

Counterpoise looked back, pushing at her power, spinning her sling until it was letting out a shrill whine above her head, then launched the ball towards the chasing brute. It tore straight through his shoulder, sending a spray of blood outwards and leaving a gaping hole. He switched directions, sprinting down a sidestreet.

"He's flanking us," Counterpoise gasped out, still clutching tightly to Acacia's armour. "Go right!"

They continued zig-zagging westwards, trying to keep to wide, well lit streets. Counterpoise had already reloaded her sling, keeping it ready for another shot, but Acacia suddenly tumbled to the ground, swearing. Counterpoise tumbled off her back, bringing her sling up, but the energetic undertone she was familiar with didn't start up.

"Acacia?"

"Armour's locked up. Can barely move it," she said, gasping.

Hatchet Face leapt down onto the road from a nearby roof with a crunch, leering at them and blocking the roar ahead.

"Clever bitches for running away," he grunted, pacing forwards. Counterpoise stood in front of Acacia, trembling but unwilling to move .

"Brave, too," Hatchet Face continued, sneering when a sling projectile bounced uselessly off his skin. "Shame. Want to see how many limbs you can lose before you aren't brave anymore? Your friend can watch."

Counterpoise didn't respond, trying to load an explosive shot into her sling with shaking hands. She jerked up when she heard a pained gasp, only to see Hatchet Face staring down at a golden sword sticking out of his chest.

Khepri stood behind him, towering over his smaller form. Counterpoise's mind went blank. The Endbringer reached out, grasping his head, and for a moment the villain's eye's flashed gold before he slumped down, dead. Acacia jolted to her feet, moving in front of the unresponsive Counterpoise.

Khepri watched them for a moment, still as a statue, before taking a step back and raising her hands placatingly.

"Counterpoise, go," Acacia growled out, even as her voice shook. She tried to push her teammate away as she began to grow her own sword out from her gauntlet.

"Counterpoise," she hissed, "please."

"I'm helping," Khepri said, sounding surprisingly human. She looked down and shook her sword, trying to dislodge Hatchet Face's corpse. It slid free, thumping to the ground, and Khepri looked back up at them.

Dragon's voice came through the radio. "Please don't be alarmed, Khepri is an ally."

Acacia laughed, and Counterpoise shook herself out of her shock.

"Acacia…," she said, resting her hand on the other cape's shoulder, "please don't do anything rash."

"Rash?"

"You should go," Khepri interrupted, "I am perfectly capable of eliminating the rest of the Nine without your help. You can stay safe."

Acacia bristled but didn't move closer, even as Counterpoise was struck by the feeling that the words seemed familiar.

"We wouldn't be here in the first place if we wanted to be safe, and we're not letting you go around our city unwatched."

"Acacia," Dragon began.

"If she's really on our side then she won't have an issue with it."

"Then you will have to stay with me," Khepri replied quietly, turning away, "and keep out of the way. There are monsters in this city, after all."

Acacia and Counterpoise shared a glance, Acacia scowling, and Counterpoise broke away to hurry to Khepri's side to follow the Endbringer's long steps in a jog.

"I consider her a friend," Dragon said over the comms, "please give her a chance."

Acacia didn't reply for a moment, even as she strode after the pair in front of her.

"I heard rumours she was working with the PRT."

"She has been. She saved Heartbreaker's victims from him."

"She also destroyed an entire city a month ago," Acacia growled out.

"It was a tragedy that we're hoping to avoid happening again. The situation is complicated."

Acacia watched the pair in front of her, taking in the sight. Khepri towered over Counterpoise, almost twice as tall, and Acacia was struck by the image of a small child walking next to their mother. She gave a low laugh.

"Crawler sighted north of the river," Dragon informed them.

The three of them came to a halt, forming a loose triangle. The Endbringer looked between them, head tilted as sand began to gather at their feet.

"What," Acacia said, moving to half stand in front of Counterpoise.

"You will need to stand on these," Khepri replied, gesturing towards the discs of sand she had formed.

Counterpoise saw Acacia stiffen and she stepped forward onto one of the platforms before her friend could protest. It took a few seconds before Acacia followed her lead, hesitantly moving onto the disc. Both of them crouched as they rose into the air, but the sand rose up to hold them in place.

Counterpoise's breathing began to quicken and for a moment she struggled against the unyielding sand before she centered herself, keeping her sight focused on the ground below them.

__________________________________________________________

They landed silently and softly, the sand dispersing quickly, and Khepri heard Counterpoise let out a gasp of relief.

Dragon spoke up again. "Crawler is just east of your position. Jack Slash, Shatterbird and Bonesaw were last seen entering an office building three kilometres west, ten minutes ago. Mannequin, Burnscar, and the Siberian are unaccounted for."

"Mannequin is dead," Khepri said, as she turned and headed unerring along the streets, her footsteps silent. A loud crashing and roaring could be heard along the street, and it was barely a few seconds before a car came hurtling round the corner and crashed into the wall, Crawler close behind it. He looked similar to what she remembered, a heaving mass of dark flesh studded with eyes. The villain skidded to a stop when he spotted Khepri.

"An Endbringer?" he asked, beginning to shuffle forwards. "Oh… oh yes!." Crawler laughed in a voice that sounded like bubbling tar and gravel, bounding towards her in a mounting charge. "Jack kept us away, but now I'm finally getting a chance!"

The ground began to shake as Crawler got closer, each footstep rumbling out.

"Circle round to the side and stay out of his way," Khepri instructed the two parahumans, shifting her stance so her khopesh was out and low to the side.

They nodded, running away from Crawler's charging bulk. He roared again, delighted and eager, speeding up as he got closer to Khepri. She braced, and a loud crunch rang out as Crawler impacted onto her immoving form. His head was caught on her arm as the rest of his body swung in a high arc over the Endbringer, his neck twisting unnaturally far back. Crawler landed on his back, breath forced out of his lungs.

"More," he groaned, twisting away and out of her grip. Crawler righted himself, lowering his front half in preparation to pounce. Khepri flicked her arm out, throwing her sword straight into Crawler's head. It sunk to the hilt, from which grew thick golden chains that quickly wrapped around the villain's body.

Khepri walked forwards as Acacia and Counterpoise returned.

"I checked on the driver. He's dead," Acacia said, her voice short. "How are you going to deal with Crawler? He just adapts."

"Yes, show me! Make me hurt! Make me stronger," he rumbled, writhing in the chain's grasp, watching the Endbringer with eager eyes. Khepri stalked closer, raising her palm to rest it gently on Crawler's snout.

Crawler began to speak but froze as his eyes flashed golden.

His form began to shrink, steadily shortening, flesh shedding off and disintegrating into ash. Within only a few moments he was reduced back to human, a small, trembling man, still misshapen in places, Khepri's sword falling to the road next to him and burying itself in the tarmac.

"What..." he gasped, voice high, "there's… no pain."

Crawler shuddered, once, staring at Khepri's mask, then fell still as the rest of his body burned away in a soft gold glow. The Endbringer stood, turning slightly to look at the two parahumans watching with wide eyes.

"Six more," Khepri said, picking up her sword as she strode away.

________________________________________________________________

Relief, fear and nausea warred within Acacia, even as she flinched at the sound of Burnscar's neck snapping.

"Why didn't you…" Counterpoise began, voice hitching when Khepri turned to look at her, "with the eyes."

The Endbringer's head tilted to the side slightly.

"You don't have to answer that!" Counterpoise squeaked.

The Endbringer nodded then turned away again, gesturing for the two of them to follow.

"Maybe we should've headed back to HQ, Acacia. Dragon is watching her."

"I'm not letting that monster roam around my home without making damn sure people have some warning when she snaps."

They followed after the Endbringer, who had been ignoring the calls from the radio and instead marching directly towards her targets.

"Your friend," Khepri said after a few minutes, causing both capes to jump in surprise, "Shepherd."

"You've met him?" Counterpoise asked, moving closer. "Do you know where he's been? We've been worried, he went to help Dragon and then-."

"He has been working with me. He helped with Heartbreaker. He is immune to all master effects," Khepri replied in the same even tone she had been using all evening.

"Is he okay, though?"

"Shepherd is… healthy. He misses you both, greatly."

"Why hasn't he come back?" Acacia challenged, louder than she intended, moving to walk between the Endbringer and Counterpoise. "It's been almost a week."

Khepri didn't reply, and Acacia shifted so she blocked her path forwards.

"You aren't telling us something."

"You are correct," Khepri agreed. She reached out, quicker than Acacia could react, and picked her up by the scruff of her armour.

"Oi!" she yelled, grabbing at the hand holding her.

"You're slowing us down. I'll put you down when we get there."

________________________________________________________

Khepri dropped Acacia when she arrived in front of a nondescript building. Counterpoise had to hold in a hysterical giggle at the wood-manipulator's disgruntled expression, the underlying terror of her situation killing it in her throat.

"Be careful," Khepri said, as she raised her palm. The building shook, almost imperceptibly, then was compressed into a tight ball. It left a wide gap, the carpets of the ground floor still in place, beyond which were gathered three of the remaining Slaughterhouse members. A blade immediately swung out, but a wall of sand rose up to protect Acacia and Counterpoise. Shatterbird's hail of glass was intercepted a moment later.

There was a furious grimace on Jack Slash's face as he stared at the Endbringer.

"Jack," Shatterbird began, and was silenced when she was pulled into the tarmac with a sickening crunch. Bonesaw's spiders began to run forwards and faded into dust as they got closer.

Khepri dodged to the side as the Siberian shot past from behind them, the monochrome killer grabbing Jack and Bonesaw as she did. The young tinker was trembling, and hunched closer to the Siberian's side.

"We'll have to continue this at another time, Khepri," Jack said, although he seemed far less sure of himself than in the videos Counterpoise had watched. The Siberian crouched, preparing to leap, then popped out of existence. Both Slaughterhouse members started in surprise, and Bonesaw let out an unhappy sob.

"Or perhaps not," Jack tried to smirk, but it came away as more of a grimace.

Khepri prowled towards them, the tarmac rising up around them to hold their legs in place.

"I-" The tarmac shot up and wrapped itself around Jack's mouth.

"No, Jack," Khepri sighed. Bonesaw began to scream and writhe, trying to reach the other villain, but her bindings dragged her away.

Jack stared as the Endbringer approached. She stopped an arm's length away from him, tilting her head, watching the expressions twist on his face.

His mouth moved, but no sound made it past the enveloping sand. Khepri reached out and gripped his face tightly, and Jack's eyes flashed gold.

______________________________________________________________________

It was quiet in the Portland PRT building. Acacia sat at a table in the deserted break room next to Counterpoise, both of their masks discarded on the table. Khepri sat opposite, her form human sized, if still tall. Three cups of cold tea sat in front of them.

"Thank you for helping," Counterpoise offered into the silence. Acacia closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You killed my friends and destroyed my home," Acacia said, almost whispering, "so tell us what you wanted to and then leave."

"I have only had free will for a short time," Khepri replied, leaning forwards and nudging her cup to the side. She pulled her mask off and placed it carefully onto the table, which let out a groan as the weight settled.

"It is not an excuse," she continued, green eyes glancing up to match Acacia's gaze, "but it is a reason."

"You think that absolves you?!" Acacia shouted, slamming her palms on the table and rattling it. "Hundreds of thousands of people died in Perth because of you."

"Half a million in Perth. Around seven million and three-hundred thousand in total."

Khepri looked back down at the table again, tracing the single blue line on her mask.

"I do not know all of their names, or their faces. I do not know who they were, or who they could've been. I did not even know the number myself; Dragon had to give me the estimate."

Acacia slumped back into her seat, and Counterpoise squeezed her hand.

"I cannot reverse what I did, but I hope that I can try to make the world a better place now."

Neither of the capes replied at first, and Acacia found herself watching Counterpoise. The younger girl was focused on Khepri. She glanced at where she was holding Acacia's hand, then reached out for Khepri's. The Endbringer stilled as Counterpoise's delicate fingers curled around the back of Khepri's hand.

"You are very quick to offer sympathy," Khepri said quietly, "and trust, only on Dragon's word."

"Well you did wipe out the Nine, so that counts for you," Counterpoise replied. She shrugged.

"I suppose, I think a hero does the right thing even when it scares them out of their mind. That they're willing to extend trust first, because that's what you should do. Being brave in the face of fear." Counterpoise blushed slightly. "It's cheesy but…"

"It's not enough," Acacia said, glowering, "for her."

"I haven't had much need to be brave in a long time," Khepri said, looking at her mask again, "but I do now. I must apologise to you both."

"Apologise?" Acacia asked, shifting to sit up in her seat.

"Yes. I have been lying to you both for a long time, at first because it was sensible but then because I was afraid."

"Lying? But we haven't-" Counterpoise stopped, eyes wide. Khepri tried to smile.

"Mika?" Acacia asked, her glower growing deeper as Counterpoise's jaw snapped shut. The younger cape grit her teeth, her hand squeezing hard onto Acacia's own.

"I thought you seemed familiar," Counterpoise said, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.

Khepri stood stiffly, slipping her hand out from Counterpoise's before gathering the white mask and hooking it onto her belt. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped away from the table.

"I'll leave," she said, face impassive.

"Wait, Shepherd." Counterpoise rose, jerkily moving round the table to stand in front of the Endbringer. She took another long, deep breath, staring straight at Khepri. Acacia jolted to her feet as well, braced to move but stuck on the spot.

"I'm… furious," she continued, voice strained, "and if I wasn't so scared of you that I can barely think I would slap you." Her hands reached out, as though to grab at Khepri's armour, clenching and unclenching.

"Mika," Khepri began, stopping when Counterpoise shook her head.

"No, you don't have the right to use that name anymore. You-. Fuck." She bashed one of her fists against Khepri's chest, then swore again at the pain. "I don't know what to feel at the moment. I thought I-."

"I'm sorry," Khepri said, hands raised and hovering near Counterpoise's own.

"I know, because Shepherd was a softie who hated hurting people. Go. But come back. I need to think." Counterpoise lurched forward, hugging Khepri for a moment, then turned and walked away stiffly. Acacia watched her go, then turned to Khepri, her mouth a thin line. She opened her mouth, paused, then shut it before sighing.

"I'll look after her. Go and check that Bonesaw hasn't escaped." The parahuman turned away, following her teammate down the corridor.

"Acacia… I am sorry."

"I don't care. Just…" Acacia shook her head, then continued walking away.

_______________________________________________________________

K: [Query] Are you going to stay up there forever?  
S: [Negation] I do not think I will receive the same welcome that you do, sister.  
K: [Encouragement] You haven't even tried.  
S: [Irritation] I know how it will go.  
K: [Thought] You can't predict me.  
S: [Agreement]  
K: [Idea] So let me introduce you. At least to Dragon.  
S: [Hesitation]  
K: [Irritation] I'm having to be brave. For all of us. It doesn't always work for me either.  
S: [Gratitude]  
K: [Exasperation]  
K: [Encouragement] We can be brave together then.  
S: [Amusement] Do you think I am afraid?  
K: [Agreement] I think you're so used to seeing the future that you don't know what to do without that vision. This isn't just about my humanity, Alicia.

K: [Sister] Alicia…  
S: [Resignation] I will try.

__________________________________________________________________

Big thanks to Burn Note and Evil Atlas for beta reading and editing, this was an especially difficult chapter. And thank you to everyone who reads and reviews, I appreciate you all.


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